Escape Through Me
by Seto'swhiterose
Summary: COMPLETE When Kaiba Corp. begins to fail rapidly, Seto is forced to sell himself in the most literal sense. Jou begins to notice...can he save him? Can anyone? SxJ, yaoi, obvious adult themes.
1. Prior Engagements

I'm deciding to write this story after a long battle with myself over the moral issues it creates. Before I start I would like to say that this type of situation happens quite often, but it has, fortunately, never happened to me or anyone I know. I do not claim to know a lot about anything like this, but I was deeply interested in writing about it so as to put my questions to rest. Can people be saved once they go this far into hell? I hope this doesn't offend anyone. I want you to know that it's purely for me and that I do not advocate this kind of thing in the slightest. I apologize in advance for those reading this that will not like it. (But don't take it too seriously, guys, it's just a story.)

A/N: As per usual, this story is told from Seto's POV. But, this story, unlike all my other ones, takes place in Japan and I'm going to use the real Japanese names for the characters, I've always wanted to do that. (Oh and pay no mind to the reference to American money I put in here…just pretend that it's in yen, alright? I honestly don't know how the yen dollars work, I know only that it's certainly not an even exchange, so let's just leave it at that.)

**_Warning:_** If you are underage or otherwise immature, you should not be reading this...it contains obvious adult themes and malexmale, yaoi, homosexuality on a lot of levels. Please don't read if you don't like or are too young, please don't!

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh or mentions of _Pretty Woman_, (that one mention of it).

**Escape Through Me**

**Chapter One: Prior Engagements**

The room was dark. Two shadow-like creatures stood in the dim light of an office desk lamp. The underside of a man's double chins, some slight stubble, the shoulders of his expensive XXL suit, and the red handkerchief stiffly poking out of his breast pocket were all that could be immediately seen. Eyes glowed in the dark, the man's pair of muddy brown and my own azure blue ones.

There was a slight spark in the darkness, a minor red glow for one second, as the man took a drag off his cigar. Only moments later a cloud of cancerous smog left his mouth and entered the vicinity of his substantially large office.

My heart pounded in my chest. This was the beginning, the alpha, the prologue to the tragedy that was to become my life. I dug my fingernails into sweaty palms. Could I really do this?

"Well, I'm waiting," he said smugly, taking another puff.

I swallowed hard and tried to remind myself that nothing scared me. I was strong and invincible. I was Kaiba Seto. But all those thoughts seemed so small right now, in the actual face of the demon.

Unable to move, I stood there trying to regulate my own breathing. Then, quite loudly, he began drumming his fat, stumpy fingers on the corner of his desk. "I don't have all night," he told me, as if I was a mere servant or cheap business partner. But then again I was his cheap business partner, or at least I was when we set up this arrangement.

He would not wait forever. If I didn't do this now, my company and my life would be destroyed. It was a matter of pride and nothing more.

Setting down my brief case, I pasted a look of pure apathy on my face and began to undress. I didn't want this to be…at the moment I wanted anyone but him to be sitting there in front of me, waiting to be pleased by my body. But I had no choice, there was nothing standing in front of me blocking my way for safety. This was for real.

When I was down to nothing but my boxers, the fat man named Toshokama traversed the length of his desk and stood by my side. He instructed me to do as he wished and for the first time in what seemed like so long, I actually did as I was told to.

Later on in the evening, I tried not to concentrate on him slamming into me, hurting me, damaging me, scarring me. I tried to think about anything else, anything in the world, (even Motou Yuugi or Katsuya Jonouchi). I tried to think sweet things, like Mokuba singing a cute song and giving me a flower for my birthday because we couldn't afford anything else in the orphanage. I tried to think of my mother, her soft hands holding me close, embracing me, giving my strength and loving me. But all that came to mind was her death, the horrors she suffered in a head-on car collision, Mokuba crying because I had hit him when he told me he loved me, the sad defeat Yuugi handed me that day, and the way Katsuya hated me and would have probably enjoyed witnessing the pathetic scene at hand.

He finished only after the worst was over, (something I'm still not sure I should count as a blessing or a misfortune). Indifferently, he got out and off of me and put his suit back on. I lay there, bleeding and in shock from his roughness, quite unable to get up.

"Get up, whore," he spit at me. "Leave before my wife comes home."

Shakily, I moved to raise myself into a slow sitting position. Just as I thought I had gathered enough strength, he stomped a fat foot on the small of my back, pushing me face first into the carpet. He bellowed his laughter at me and I had to willingly tell myself not to kill him. It would have been so easy…but I fought this. I couldn't kill him before the deal had been officially made. Otherwise it would have all been for nothing.

When he was done with his sick torment and shredding of my pride, I re-gathered my strength and stood up, trying to dress myself with trembling hands. As I was about to leave, I grabbed my brief case off the floor and set it on his desk with a loud smack.

"Our—our bargain?" I hated having to stutter, but my tongue didn't want to work with me.

He was back behind his desk, the same damn light still on, reaching into his desk for another cigar. It was as if nothing happened. He could do that to someone and not even care. I despised him.

Waving a hand dismissively, he said, "But of course, Seto Kaiba…you held up your end, I'll hold up mine."

"Good." I opened my brief case. It was empty, exactly as I had left it. I flipped the open end to his side of the desk and told him, "Put the money in here."

He lit the brown stump between his fingers and pulled a single wad of cash from his jacket. Gently, he placed it in the wide brief case and turned his back to me, as if sending me away. Apprehensible, I peered at the money. It did not look at all like $600,000.

So, I picked it up and counted it quickly. My insides froze solid. I felt my lips turn as blue as my eyes from shear shock. This money was not nearly as much as he had said…

"This…this is not at all what we agreed on Monday. You've cheated me, Toshokama." I was sure we had said $600,000. I was absolutely positive. I wondered: Why was he doing this? Had he not gotten what he wanted and then some?

"It appears we both agreed on something different, then. I remember being distinctly told that I was to give you $6,000 to aid your rapidly failing company, Kaiba-san. Perhaps it is your failure as a businessman to communicate properly. It is certainly not mine." I blinked at him. I knew where this was going. He never had any intention to give me that amount of money. I realized now what a fool I had been.

I began to feel anger rise through me. "It was $600,000 and you know it."

Still leaving me with only his back to shout at, he said, "Now you're just being greedy, Kaiba-san, and trying to trick an old man into giving you one hundred times as much as was said."

Anger turned into fear. Was this really all that I was going to be given for that act of desperation? Only $6,000 that I could earn doing something much less degrading and even perhaps enjoyable? The goddamn Duelist Kingdom Tournament offered more money than this, and that I could have won that with my eyes closed, if Pegasus had played fair.

"Toshokama. I am not in a joking mood. Do not give me this measly amount of money and expect me to just walk away satisfied. Give me the full $600,000 or…" I hesitated saying this. "…I will kill you."

At this, his chair swiveled around and he faced me, smirking. "You'll kill me, Kaiba-san? And what purpose would that serve? You'd still be out the money, and you'd still have a failing company. Think it through for once, faggot."

I blinked and looked away. This was true. And if I did kill him I'd just be liable for murder and thrown in jail to watch the slow demise of my company from a cell cable television. That was not appealing in the slightest.

I realized that this was all I was going to be getting on this night. On this night. He probably expected something more from me…sorrow coursed through me. This was not the last time at all. He never intended for it to be. I sighed. "What else do you want, Toshokama?"

His eyes lit up like little piglets. "Friday. You're here, same time, same place, same thing. No more, no less."

I sighed. Every single nerve cell in my body was screaming at me to forget this place, leave this nightmare behind, repress the memories and try to revive my company by legal means. I didn't honestly feel that I could withstand being sodomized by this bastard again. I honestly didn't…but…I needed that money so badly…my life practically depended on it. What kind of man would I be without a company? What would my stepfather's death have been for? What would I be to Mokuba? A big brother that failed to keep a company on his own? A pathetic, sorry, worthless being without a purpose in life is all that I would amount to. I knew that.

So, trying to suppress all thoughts of going back from here, I raised my chin high and said, "What do I get?"

"I'll give you $80,000…and," he added this part with a look one would usually reserve for an incompetent child, "if you're good, the rest of tonight's payment."

I sighed. I hardly believed he would make good on that bargain if he hadn't even given me the right payment tonight, but I just had to believe in this. It was my last hope.

Without another moment's hesitation, (I suddenly felt like I just wanted this to be over), I shoved my hand in his face, a signal for us to shake hands on it and make it final. Once that was done, I closed the briefcase on the pitifully small clasp of money and left his mansion.

The night air greeted me solemnly and yet refreshingly. I hated the clean feeling that was blowing through the town, the freshness. For I myself felt dirty, unclean, like I hadn't bathed in over a year. Yet, I still managed to put one foot in front of the other and make my way to the airport.

Toshokama lived all the way in Nagasaki, a long way from my home town of Domino. I had to take a flight there, in the middle of the night. It looked like I was going to be doing this again on Friday, as well. Mokuba would be furious. I had already had to lie and tell him that all this was only a business trip, would he believe it again? Yes, he probably would. Mokuba believed everything I told him, practically. If it came from Nii-sama's mouth, it must be true. This was partially good and yet partially bad. I never had to tell him the truth, but I always felt like the bad guy in the end.

At the airport, a couple of sleepy flight attendants and some weary passengers grumbled and groaned on their way home or to different flights. I talked to the employee at the reservation desk. She was helpful, if a little high-strung from gallons of caffeine.

Her smile was bright and almost painful to look at. She was wearing light pink lipstick and had the whitest teeth I'm sure I had ever seen. They blinded my eyes, which had seen only the dim light of Toshokama's house for the past three hours. Somehow I felt hurt by her cheeriness. Her willingness to comply only sickened my already queasy stomach. I wanted to hold her down and choke her until the smile wore off. But I had the weirdest feeling that even if I did she would just keep that fake smile plastered right on there.

"Name please, and do you have a reservation?" She said in the sweetest, most unbelievably fake tone. Was she real? Was she human? Did she bleed red?

Feeling dead, I responded, "Kaiba Seto and yes I do," with no vigor at all.

She began typing furiously on her computer, searching for my reservation. I couldn't stand to look at her. I turned my gaze to the lobby of busy people. Tourists and citizens floated past me of all races, ages, and body types. There was a man dressed in rags sitting near one of the ticket booths, begging for spare change. He held a sign that just said one thing: "Onegai Shimasu" ("Please"). Next to the sign was a cup filled with a few coins. Horrified, I looked away. Would that be me in a few months, sitting there begging people for change, the CEO who couldn't handle the company and went bankrupt, lost his pretty house and everything he had? People would pass by me holding their noses because I was so unclean, and they would whisper about me, ("Isn't that the child prodigy you used to hear about, some Kasha Seto or something?" "Oh yes, I think so…he used to be so handsome, look at him now, sitting there." "Kaiba Seto, that was it!" "Hmm…I guess you just never know, right? You just never know." "How pathetic.")

"Right! Here you are!" Dragging me out of my horrific daydream, the employee began telling me what flight number I had and what time it would be leaving. I nodded dumbly through it all, until I made reservations for Friday. Amazingly she smiled through that, too. After a while, the girl gave me the ticket and said, "Enjoy your flight." I was flashed one extra-big smile. Then she directed her gaze toward the person behind me, moving on. All day there were thousands of people, thousands of smiles. I sighed. It was so easy to loose your sanity in this life.

I began walking away, heading toward the loading track of my flight to Domino, Track #32. On my way there, I headed inevitably in the direction of the homeless beggar with the sign. I tried not to look at him, to think of Mokuba and how I would tuck him in when I got home if he was still awake, but I couldn't help it. Just as I was passing him, my gaze shifted onto him, sitting right next to me, so close that I could touch him.

Somehow his eyes locked right onto mine and we met for one brief instant, I saw into his blood-shot eyes and took in the dirt and slime attached to his beard and ripped clothing. He smelled like old cigarettes and body odor. His hands and dirty fingernails gripped the sign and left smudges of dirt on it.

But he was wearing my face.

I felt my stomach churn. Vomit was in the back of my throat. I shattered our connective stare and ran for dear life into the Men's Room. Bright, fluorescent lighting and the smell of stale urine met me as I threw down my practically empty briefcase and thrust my head in the sink, just in time to throw up all the contents in my weak stomach.

I gripped the porcelain sink until I was finished. Hesitantly, almost scared, I looked into the blurry mirror. All I saw was myself, my own Seto Kaiba self. I was the same as always when I stared into the mirror, (only now I had an unattractive line of vomit tracing down my chin).

I looked away from the reflective glass and wiped the vomit off my chin. That was never going to happen to me. I was never going to be that poor; I would never let myself sink that low. Even if it meant being raped and cheated again and again by Toshokama until I died, I would die keeping my company. There was no other way for me.

I popped a piece of gum in my mouth to neutralize the smell, grabbed my briefcase and headed onto my flight. It was always such a long, slow process, moving onto the plane and gathering the tickets. There were so many people lined up for the flight, how could anyone make sense of it all? They were like cattle, moving this way and that, needing to be told what direction to go in, waiting for their masters to come and herd them.

The plane was small, it needed to be moved up in size, but I hadn't taken the highest class of a trip because lately I had been saving my money, investing everything in the company, trying to keep it alive as long as I could. That meant no extra spending and no "rich" stuff. I had even sold my private jet and two of my limousines.

I felt trapped on this airplane, there were too many people blocking my way, moving about, loading suitcases. Babies cried, people sneezed, depraved children pulled out video games and walkmans for the ride, and of course there was the usual murmur of various and numerous conversations in many languages.

I had chosen a window seat thankfully, I had something else to look at other than the ugly face of the old woman next to me (a skinny thing that had a hacking cough and kept taking shaky sips of the ginger ale they served).

Slowly, I eased myself into my seat, paying attention to the soreness in my rectum and the forming bruise on my lower back from where Toshoyama had stomped on me. It was enough to make me grimace as I sat, trying to be as discreet as possible, and trying to deny the excruciating pain traveling up my spinal cord.

I took a deep breath and decided to check on my company, before the pilot got onto the loud speaker. I pulled out my laptop and stared numbly at the number my computer registered as the worth of my stocks. $40. An all time low. Just three months ago I had been at $50,000…I gulped when I saw this vile digital presentation. That meant only the worst things were in store.

Suddenly a man's voice went on overheard. "Attention passengers, I am your pilot, Takanawa Yamichi. This is the flight going from Nagasaki to the town of Domino. It lasts from 1:00 a.m. to 3:30 a.m. We will be showing the movie _Pretty Woman_ in Japanese subtitles, which is viewable for all audiences. I hope you enjoy your flight, now please pay attention to the hostess Michisawa-san who will instruct you on the proper procedures in emergencies."

Yes, yes. I had heard this all before. And I really didn't care. If the plane was to crash and burn right at that moment it would be all the better for me.

I shifted a little in my velour chair. Although it was cushioned nicely, I still felt the pain.

Well, I would just have to ignore it. There was nothing I could about it at present. So, I attempted to get my mind off it by tapping into my company's bank account and investing $5,999 in the account, (as company rule, you had to keep at least one dollar from every cash investment and put it in the emergency savings. It was designed so that even if one year the company made $0 in products and selling, there would be enough money to keep company going. Soon, I knew I would be searching into this fund, needing the extra money).

For the rest of the way I worked on the woeful business, trying to find new ways of gaining money that I hadn't noticed the other hundred times I looked, scouring the Kaiba Corporations mainframe. But, as usual, I came up empty. All my resources had been dried out ever since people lost interest in duel monsters and started concentrating on other things, things that had nothing to do with the game. I should have put my company into something else, something more necessary for human life.

Tooth brushes. That's what I should have made. I bet you that the CEOs of those companies never had to resort to prostitution to keep their companies going.

But I knew nothing about tooth brushes. And I had started a company in the duel monsters game and now I was paying the price.

Towards the end of the flight, the woman next to me began giving me sideways glances and eerie looks out of the corner of her eye. It was odd, but I was used to it. When you become famous all hell breaks loose and everyone knows your name.

Just as the plane landed and everyone got out of their seats to gather up packages and such for the drive home or to their hotels, (if I looked out the window I could see the familiar lights of my town staring back at me, always a comfort), she turned around and asked in fragile, ancient voice, "Hey, aren't you that handsome young man that owns a company? Kaiba Seto?" At the mention of my name, the people around us began whispering and pointing at me from across the aisle. Somehow I saw the look of ghosts in their faces. They reminded me of dead things, things that were no longer alive.

I stared at them all with empty blue eyes. "Yes."

She seemed delighted. "Oh, I've read about you so many times in the papers…my granddaughter really admires you, you know. May I please have your autograph?"

Obviously this woman was behind the times. Oh well. Maybe it would make me feel better to sign another autograph. Yeah, right.

"Sure," I told her and reached into my pocket for some paper. I wrote my name out in thick black lines. Just to make her happy, I even spit out my gum and wrapped it in the paper, so her daughter could idolize something that had actually been in my mouth, (teenagers did that kind of thing, but luckily for her she may never know of the vomit traces on the gum). "There you are."

"Arigatou gozaimasu! Thank you so much, Kaiba-sama. This will mean the world to my granddaughter."

"Sure," I said again. I was happy to leave the plane. I had thought signing an autograph would make me feel better, but in reality I just felt worse. Much worse. Now I knew that people were out there watching me, looking into my every failure and success. The thought sickened me.

Once I got into my limousine, (the last one in my possession to be honest), and was driven home by one of my die-hard drivers, Nakamura, I felt the full force of what I had done that night in Nagasaki. There was no turning back, now. I was into this…what more would I have to do to get my life back on track?

Just as I entered my darkened home, I felt my cell phone ring. Fear shot through me quickly. What if it was Toshokama? No…no…it couldn't be.

I took it out and flipped it on. "Moshi moshi?"

A familiar voice washed over me. "Kaiba-sama!" It was only Ichigata, the vice president of my company. He and I had been seeing a lot of each other lately trying to deal with the problem at hand. His voice offered normality and comforted me.

"Konbanwa, Ichigata. Good evening."

"Uh…it's morning, sir."

Oh right. "Why, yes it is, isn't it?"

"Uh, yeah…listen, why weren't you at the meeting tonight?"

I blinked and took off my coat in the living room, getting ready for sleep, if it was so kind as to come to me. "What meeting?"

"The meeting tonight with those people from Industrial Illusions! It was highly important, sir, it could have saved us!"

I had forgotten about that meeting but it didn't matter in the slightest. "Gomen nasai, Ichigata, I forgot about that. I had…prior engagements to attend to. But it's alright. I'm sure that Industrial Illusions is just as poor as we are right now what with Pegasus being conspicuously absent and the lack of interest in duel monsters internationally."

"I…suppose you're right. But what abut these engagements, Kaiba-sama? Who are you visiting?"

"Toshokama. We have been discussing the state of my company; he has found it in his heart to invest in us. Just tonight he gave me $6,000." That hurt so badly saying that.

"Only $6,000? Sir, missing the meeting was one thing, but missing it just so you could get a measly $6,000 is quite another. I do not mean to be presumptuous, but—.."

"Silence, Ichigata," I commanded. I still had the power of voice in me. "Do not forget that I am still your boss. Watch your tone."

"Of—of course, sir. Gomen nasai."

"Good night, Ichigata, I am going to sleep now. I'll be there in the morning before school."

"But sir—.."

I hung up. I didn't want to think about that right now.

I trudged upstairs to the bedrooms. I checked in on Mokuba quickly, to see that he was indeed asleep, innocently dreaming of a better world hopefully. Seeing his face and the softness of his features gave me some condolence, but not much. It just made me feel unclean even more than I did before.

Practically running, I left his room and shut the door. I would see him tomorrow, I couldn't deal with all the issues Mokuba brought up right now.

Safely in my room, I threw my clothes on the floor and ripped open the drawer on my nightstand. Where the hell were those sleep-aids? I was knocking things aside and throwing some things on the floor in my haste.

Finally, I found them. Beautiful blue and white bottle, glorious yellow and red gel tablets. Wonderful pain in my throat as I swallow four, (the usual dosage being two), simultaneously and without water. In the past months, these pills had been my best friends, I had gone through almost the entire bottle. I just needed something to calm my system, something to make me relax. They worked perfectly.

Feeling light headed, I lay down on my bed and stared at the blank ceiling. I tried to chase some of the thoughts in my head, but none of them followed through. They had beginnings but no end. My eyes weighed down heavily…sleep called to me.

One single thought branded through the medicated fog: I had officially been branded as a prostitute, I had done the unthinkable. My life was no longer my own. That thought was too much.

I closed my eyes, finally. Thank you, that feels so much better.

As sleep began to claim me, I concentrated on spreading a feeling of numbness through-out my body, something to dull the pain of my actions. Anything would help. I concentrated on it, and eventually it did appear. But I still felt the physical pain from what he had done to me. I wondered if I could ever forget this night, this one night of desperation that had changed me permanently.

I opened my eyes, (the pills taking time to course through my blood and spread), and stared at the blank ceiling. What am I? What in God's name am I? I wondered.

Nothing, I thought. You are nothing.

A/N: First chapter down. This took me all day to write… I've been spending way too much time in front of a computer screen, lately. Anyway, I hope it wasn't horrible, I'm still trying to work on this, please review and tell me if this is even worthwhile. I hope so.

Thanks for giving it a try.


	2. Mistakes

This story is officially updated. With Chapter 2! There you go. I feel strong about this story now that the first chapter is out there…(sighs in relief)…It makes me feel better to know that I have support, I guess. Good news: Katsuya arrives in this chapter! A lot of people wondered how he was going to fit in here, find out. Hope you like it!

Oh my god…I was not expecting to get that many reviews…omg…you guys are so awesome! Thank you so much for those reviews…I can't tell you how much it means to me…thanks so much! I know this story is a little unbelievable, thanks for reading anyway. (hugs everyone)

**_Important Notice:_** has suddenly sprung this rule on us that we are not allowed to respond to our reviewers anymore. I don't know why, but I'm really upset…I still want to talk to you guys, though! So if you could just drop your e-mail in the review it would make things much easier for me…(or I can hunt you down…lol). Thanks guys, and I'm sorry for the inconvenience!

**_Warning:_** This story contains homosexuality, yaoi, and some scenes that may be inappropriate for people underage. Please don't read if you're too young/immature! PLEASE!

Disclaimer: I don't own YGO or any of the car mentioning I put in here…(yes, I'm really an anime creator and car dealer in disguise! Bwuahahaha!)

**Chapter Two: Mistakes**

Oh, the terror of waking from a drug-induced sleep. My alarm clock blasted me awake at 6:30 in the morning, which gave me a surprising large amount of sleep—nearly three hours, (that's a lot considering my stressful state).

I remember transgressing from the black cloudiness of the sleeping pills with the sound of an earsplitting drum in the distance. At first I thought it was my heart, beating so fast and so loud in my chest that I was going to throw it up any time soon, but then my eyes cleared and I awoke to my senses, staring at the immaculately white ceiling.

Immediately, a head-ache hit me. It was nothing new, however.

Squinting, and massaging my temples I leaned over the dresser and deactivated the thudding clock. For those few seconds just out of sleep, I thought that everything was fine. I forgot that my company was near death by strangulation of money sources and the desperation coursing through my life. I prepared to simply walk into Mokuba's room and wake him for another day of school and of substantial but easy work…

Then I looked back up at the ceiling. It was white…so white…my stomach flipped…what was wrong with the white? It was so unbearable…

Suddenly the memories of the night before slithered through my mind like soiled electricity, jolting back all the previous emotions. I threw myself off the mattress and ran into the adjoining bathroom, expecting to vomit.

I reached the toilet in time to catch a dry retch escaping with one silvery strand of saliva but no stomach contents. I had used those up previously, I suppose.

I was kneeling in front of the thing, hands gripping the shaggy rug beneath me. The rug was a light beige color; it sort of matched the walls of crystalline white, but not entirely.

I held my head, trying to suppress the pain in it. All this white….it hurt my damn eyes it was so white. The white was a reminder of all that was unclean about me. All that I had done and would continue to do in deep but useless hopes to re-attain my old, stable life.

Shower. I gripped the edge of the sink that hovered dangerously just above my head. I needed to shower and wash away this filth.

Pulling myself up on rubbery legs, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. I looked exactly the same as I always had. Thick but brittle brownish hair; blue eyes to match the clearest sea or the perfect sky; steady, angular lines for jaw and cheekbone structures; slightly imperfect nose from where it had broken time again over the years of my life; lean, slim neck and black shoulders, (covered by my shirt); skin bleached the color of pale manila from long hours of staring at a computer screen. Same as always.

But something…something was different. What…

This was nonsense. Nothing could possibly be different. Just because I had had unwanted sex with an old man the night before certainly did not mean that I was any different. My feelings of filthiness were perfectly natural considering I hadn't had a shower in over a day.

Yet that wasn't true…I had just taken a shower yesterday evening before my flight to Nagasaki.

It mattered not. I had gotten a little dirty on the floor of Toshokama's office, I was certain he didn't regularly clean that rug, it smelled of stale leather and old cigar smoke that seeped in from his endless drags. So of course I would be a little bit grimy…of course.

If you have to know, I'm not really an emotional kind of guy. The last of my "touchy-feely" Motou Yugi-like emotions died along with my stepfather. It is pure foolishness to think that such a small act would spark such a great reaction in me.

But it did…

Viciously, I shook my head to rid it of the stupidity. I had not the time to linger on such trivialities. There simply was no time left anymore.

So, I yanked off my clothes and wrenched the shower's knobs into life. No cold water for me today. I didn't need it. Heat. That's all that could pass. Scorching heat with steam bouncing off the walls of the bathroom. That was more than enough.

As soon as the water, (or liquid fire, I might say), touched my skin, the lungs in my chest gasped deeply for more air. That was damn hot.

_Fitting, don't you think?_ The strong part of my mind asked. _For the whore to get burned?_

My weaker side trembled at these words. They were true…all too true. This was basically what I deserved. To burn out the shame, physically, as they used to do in medieval times, burn their unruly prostitutes.

The water rolled down my flesh, leaving trails of screaming pain in their wake. I ignored it. All in all, it overshadowed the pain in my head, in the large, dark bruise on my back, and in my sore rectum. That was a blessing.

The wash cloth I had with me scrubbed my skin trying to get the dirt off.

_What dirt?_ A new, inquisitive, logical side of my mind asked. _There's no dirt there…_

_Yes there is!_ The strong side retaliated. _It is there, underneath the skin, in your very soul, Seto Kaiba. _

So I scrubbed and I scrubbed. But I never felt clean. Even after I deemed myself finished, with patches of blood appearing after scraping raw, burned skin. I still felt filthy. But like I already said…the dirt was in my soul.

I dressed myself according to protocol of my reputation. Black trench coat, black turtle neck, and a pair of black pants. I couldn't stand to look at the white of that other coat I wore to Battle City. It was so gaudy, anyway. I didn't like it anymore.

Fully dressed, with briefcase in hand, (the money clasp was officially invested in the Kaiba Corp. data base, although I would have to stop and put the measly $6,000 in the bank on my way to work), I left my bedroom and descended the stairs, slowly, trying not to reopen the bloodied, raw marks on my legs, or irritate my already irritated ass.

What would I say to Mokuba? He would be asking questions about the "meeting" from last night, and what would I say? Could I really pretend that everything was fine? That was becoming so hard to do…

But I would handle it. Just like every other problem I had overcome in my life, this was no exception. The rest of the stairs passed quickly and before I knew it, I was staring into the blinding gleam of my kitchen.

The kitchen was full of glass cabinets and various metallic appliances. In the morning sun, the shine of everything is seriously dangerous to the eyes. One must either be careful or wear a pair of sunglasses.

After shielding my vision with a hand hovering next to my eyebrows, I was able to spot Mokuba sitting the table, away from the sunlight, munching on a waffle with his legs swinging innocently under the table.

"Ohayō, Seto!" (Good Morning) He called, mouth full of masticated waffle, but face bright and cheery.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Mokuba," I grunted in return, pretending I was immune to his cuteness.

He swallowed loudly. "Ohayō, Seto."

"Konnichiwa, Otōto." (Hello, Little Brother.) I ambled over to the coffee pot and poured myself a cup of black coffee, steaming hot, just like the shower.

"I missed you last night, Nii-sama." He took another bite of the waffle, eyes wide in sincerity.

My gaze softened as it turned to his. He could melt my heart with those eyes. Forging indifference, I sipped my coffee, (damn hot, but the taste was exquisite), and replied, "I missed you, too, Mokuba."

Disbelief showed on his face. "Really?"

"Of course." Naturally, I had never—or rarely—told my brother this, but ever since the company had started descending the monetary ladder, I began revising my behavior toward him, trying to let him know exactly what he meant to me. I felt…like time was running out for some reason.

Mokuba finished the rest of his waffle in practically one bite and said, "Can you walk me to school today, Seto?"

I shook my head. "Gomen. I have too much work to do."

He sighed exasperatedly. "But you always have too much work to do!"

"Well, I am a CEO…" I hated where this conversation was going, why I never had time to walk him places anymore. Mokuba hated the limousine. He looked forward to our walks more than anything. But my company needed me so badly right now…there was no way.

"But Seeetooo…onegai?"

I laid the coffee cup on the counter and kneeled down next to my brother. I shifted him into a slow but sure hug and said, "Gomen nasai. Gomen nasai."

"Wha…Seto?" Mokuba asked. God. How long had it been since we last hugged like this? "It's…it's not that big of a deal…" He thought I was only sorry for the walk? If only…well, it was better that way, I guess.

"I know," I said, and pulled back from the hug with love in my eyes, as much love as I could muster.

Mokuba looked happy, but confused at my actions. We never really touched each other. A pat on the back here, a high five now and then, but anything other than that—like if we accidentally brushed each other in the house or at my office—we said, "Gomen," and moved on. Why was that? Hugging Mokuba felt good, it was a shelter or solace in my world of cruelty. Why had I not relished in the hugs before?

Yet, at the end of the hug, one thing remained in my mind: Guilt. It washed over my soul. Guilt for lying to Mokuba all the time. Guilt for being such a horrible brother. Guilt for giving him this life that had everything but what he wanted most—a family. Guilt for what I did. Guilt for what I would do. Guilt for the past. Guilt for the present. Guilt for the future. Guilt. **Guilt.**

I scurried away quickly with this guilt, trying not to let him see it. I wanted to hide this guilt, bury it in a hole inside of me and never speak of it again. That's what I would do.

Well, that was to be our last hug for a while…I was not fit to touch him with my impurity. Anyone else's touch would be repulsive…touching could be good, but only for good people.

"I…have to go to work, now, Mokuba. And after that I'll be at school. You have my cell phone number if anything comes up." The usual "going to work" speech. He'd heard it all before.

"Hai, Seto…have a good day?" He said it like a question, with a question on his face and everything.

I nodded. No, it will not be a good day. But, it will for you. It won't but it will because life is ambiguous like that.

With nothing more to say, I was off, briefcase in hand.

I liked to walk to my building, see people, see things, sometimes get noticed by crazed fans. I liked getting the exercise that my body needed, I didn't eat much so I wasn't fat but I still needed exercise to be healthy. I had long ago given up the martial arts. My stepfather had been obsessed with teaching it to me, and that he had done, but it was never really my thing. I could kill someone with the knowledge I possessed in the art, though I would only do so in desperate measures. I had only killed one person in my entire life—Gozaburo Kaiba himself. I can only think of him as the one person in the world worth killing.

But that day was not at all a day for walking. It was way too painful.

However, Nakamura—being my one and only limousine driver—needed to take Mokuba to school at the same time I needed to go to work. So I was forced to drive myself.

Once upon a time I owned thirty different cars, each one a classic in its year since 1970. Now, twenty of those cars had been sold, with all proceeds going to, of course, Kaiba Corporation. I only had ten left, and they were alright, but not at all the usual style you might assume.

That day, I chose to drive a 1997 Sebring Convertible in the color of burgundy with a black soft top. American car. Very expensive. One day soon I would have to sell this beauty…I thought this would very well be my last time riding it…

I hoped into the front, beige leather interior—(A/N: Eww, leather!)—and started the engine promptly. It roared to life and I rolled out of my large, (yet most recently quite empty), garage and onto the Domino Streets. The ride to the towering, glass building of Kaiba Corp. was relatively short with no activity except for the occasional red light here and there. But I'm told that's normal.

It felt weird entering my building these days. Previously I had felt strong and liberated being in that grand old place. The overall mood was different now. I had a lot less employees, most of them left with the downfall of the company, trying to go find work that would pay them better than I could. I still had a few die-hards, but they were just not the same. The place looked…dead. I hate saying it, even though it's true. Everything about it reeked of death. It was dying, after all…

Thankfully, the elevator still worked. I rode it up to the very top floor and walked onto the floor, practically deserted. This floor, (the 95th floor), only held my office and the office of my vice president, Ichigata. Thus, it was quite quiet up there.

I found Ichigata rummaging through the papers in his file cabinet when I knocked on the door. I made sure to stand extremely tall when I addressed him, so as not to make him suspicious.

He turned to me abruptly; it appeared I had startled him out of something. No matter. Ichigata was a generally nervous man. He had short jet black hair, old, frail skin, an average weight but surprisingly small height (about 5' 1" I could guess), and circular, thick glasses that wobbled if he turned his head too fast. The usual nerd CEOs received for their VP. But Ichigata proved useful in the tough situations, so I didn't mind him at all. In fact, I was grateful for him.

He steadied his glasses and said in his unconfident but not weak voice, "Ohayō gozaimasu, Kaiba-sama. Has anything come up?" We often asked each other this question first thing in the morning, to see if a solution or a new found problem had entered the equation.

"The $6,000 from last night, but other than that…" I sighed. "How about you?"

He looked down and said, "Well, there was that meeting last night…but as you said…" It seemed the word "nothing" was a fearful thing. Neither of us wanted to use it.

I nodded. Conversation made no sense with people both lacking a reason to talk. We both knew there was nothing either of us could do. Why did we pretend that each day something new and exciting would come up?

We stood there a moment longer saying nothing, him coughing a little, the briefcase shifting in my hand. "Well," I said loudly, again he was startled. "I have to leave for school at 7:00, so if there's anything you need me for, I only have 15 minutes."

"Iie, there is nothing."

"I'll be in my office, then." Promptly, I turned away from this sorry situation and walked into my own, more spacious office with a slight greeting to my middle aged and frequently depressed secretary Yusume. She was about 40 and always wore something fancy to work, like a silk kimono with intricate floral patterns or something. I didn't know why. A suit and tie would have been fine with me.

The wall-length window of my office greeted my in return. I loved this window. I could spy on all of Domino almost 100-stories away from all the people. Everything looked so insignificant from that high up. That very window was also the killing factor of my hated stepfather. It was like a friend to me, a best friend. But that's stupid…it's just a piece of glass, (fairly large piece of glass, but still).

The rest of my office held nothing to speak of, really.

I spent the 15 minutes just checking over everything, making sure everything was just as bad as before, no more or less. My overall stock value had gone down $2.00 since the night before, to $42. I sighed. But at least it wasn't in the negatives yet. If that happened then it meant that I was actually spending more money putting into my company than I was getting out of it. And that meant that you should just drop it and move on with your life. But I was not there yet.

At exactly 7:00 on the dot, I fled the scene and sped illegally all the way to my high school, (oh the horse power of a convertible). I couldn't wait to get out of that nightmare and forget about work for a moment. That was really the only reason I went to school.

As usual I was there just after all the teachers got there. Some kids got in before I did, but usually it was just me and a few early risers at this time in the morning.

I went into first period class and sat at the desk staring into nothing as kids passed by me, whispering. More and more came in. More and more whispers. About me? Maybe. Who cared? People talked, it was my reputation that was all I cared about.

I remained passive until the usual time: 5 second before Late Bell when Yugi and his friendship groupies arrived. Familiar hate bubbled up in me as I saw those triangle-shaped spikes of three colors…and those ignorant purple eyes twisted in laughter of some idiotic humor passed by one of his religious followers. That was what they were. Religious followers, afraid to step out of line from his Divine Rule.

And of course, the mutt…a different kind of anger entered me when I saw that mongrel. I loved hating Jonouchi Katsuya. He was so…easy to hate. He never cleaned up for anything, he always wore practically rags of our school uniform, and his hair looked like a creature separate from his body, its own living entity. Last but not least, his American accent and mannerisms. He acted like a street punk and talked like one. He was…uncultured and exactly the opposite of everything I was exposed to day in and day out.

But there was something…different…about Jonouchi that I couldn't exactly place. When I taunted him—which I never missed the opportunity to do—and saw him get angry, I always felt a little better and a little worse. The better part was easy to explain, I hated him, after all. But the worse factor…I had no explanation for. It made no logical sense, and yet, I didn't mind it that much. Because, I mean, of course he was attractive, anyone would admit that…

What the hell is that kind of thinking getting me? Sure, Jonouchi was attractive physically maybe, (yes, I'm gay, any questions?), but his mannerisms totally over-shadowed that. And his annoying, hateful ways…right? Of course. I nodded to myself in silent agreement.

Of course, it was just my luck that all four of the cretins had to be in my first period class. I had to start my day in Health class with all of them. Why did we even have to take a health class? I honestly didn't know, it was just a stupid idea. They didn't teach us anything useful, anyway, and half the kids were too immature for it. If only it didn't make the difference between graduating and becoming a super-senior…

So I sat there with my chin resting in my hand and pretended not to hear them talking until the bell rang and our teacher, Kensui-san clapped his hands to get our attention. "Alright, ohayō gozaimasu, class,"—how many times had I heard this so far that day?—"we'll get right down to business. Does anyone know where we left off yesterday?"

Yugi raised his hand energetically, apparently the only kid awake in the whole class so far, as usual. "Go ahead, Motou," Sensei said, always happy to receive a student that actually paid attention.

"We were discussing how the lining of the uterus thickens and then recedes when a woman menstruates, Sensei." Had he no shame? Was he deaf to the bundles of giggles that erupted from every single girl in the class? Was he just a suck-up? I shook my head. He was such an embarrassment.

Kensui silenced the giggles. "That's exactly right, Motou," he beamed. "Let us continue this discussion with what results from this receding…"

Yugi raised his hand and waved it in the air hopefully. But this time, probably to the extreme pain of Kensui, the teacher ignored him. "Anyone else?" He scoped the class with his enormous bat-like eyes, the middle-aged fat in his gut shifting along with his gaze. How did he do that?

No else raised their hand, so once again he was forced to desperate measures: Pick someone out that looks like they have some clue of what's going on. Everyone duck into their seats.

The one girl that remained upright in her seat doodling in her notebook and having no clue what was going on, (a girl name Yamagatchi who dressed awkwardly and was constantly picked on by the others because she was frequently spacing out on everyone), was chosen as today's victim.

"Yamagatchi, I'm sure you know, what happens as a result of this receding of the uterus?"

She threw her head up from her drawing and said, "Uh…um…a baby?"

This time the whole class erupted with laughter. I shook my head again. This was such a waste of time. Perhaps I could get away with slipping out my laptop and rummaging through the files for a new way of revival…but I had done that already…

The teacher sighed. "Iie, Yamagatchi. Of course not. That is an entirely different matter, child birth! Let's go over it again, shall we?" He turned his back and went to write on the board, talking about the topic all the way.

As if on cue, the entire student body in Health II Period 1 went to passing notes from right to left, back to forward, forward to back, throwing paper balls at each other, and whispering the latest gossip. I remained sitting there staring at my desk, trying to decide if it was worth it to check my laptop again…

_Well it would be if you found a way…then everything would be worth it, wouldn't it?_ One side.

_Who is to say if I will…I haven't after months and months of searching, why would I now?_ Another.

_Well—_

Suddenly a paper ball landed on my desk. I nearly jumped in alarm. (Fortunately I controlled myself at the last second.)

Angry, I scanned the room for a culprit, but the teacher had turned back around and all were at attention. So, instead, I picked up the ball and unwrinkled it to decode the message given to me.

It was a picture. The drawing was extremely sloppy, but it was obvious what it portrayed.

Apparently, it was me wearing the outfit of a groom and holding a computer in my hands with the computer wearing a bridal veil and, oddly enough, myself kissing the computer screen in front of a roughly sketched parsonage. Underneath the drawing, it was written in childish hand writing: "Seto Kaiba's Wedding Day".

I stared at the picture. Was this meant to be insulting? Seriously? I actually smirked at the childishness of it. I looked up to see if anyone was partaking in their "victory", but the teacher was still facing us.

Oh well. The drawer could have been anyone. And I really didn't care. I had so many better things to do with my life than worry about the juvenile teasing of a class full of demented teenagers. I re-wrinkled the paper and grasped the ball in my hand tightly until the end of class rolled around. On my way out, (always the last one after everyone jumped up and sped out one second after the bell), I dropped it in the garbage pail unceremoniously.

I swam my way through the hallways, people talking, people at lockers, people kissing, people fighting, papers littering the floors, and the over-all state of disarray you find in any high school. It was all so monotonous, so pointless. Half of them would end up in some useless windowless cubicle in places like Toshokama Industries working for a man that made sex-deals with people. That was what the world revolved around anyway: sex.

Second class, third class, fourth class, fifth. Fighting boredom and trying not to concentrate on the battles raging in my mind. Finally, sixth period. That period was mine. My lunch period. I sat with no one at lunch, usually just worked on my laptop and made random calls if I had to. I liked the solitude.

My own table was in the darkest farthest away corner of the lunchroom. I went in and sat down, no lunch bag to speak of so I just pulled out a water bottle and sipped it surreptitiously. I was raised to believe it was wrong to drink and eat in front of people. If you must eat, do it where no one can see you.

I gently pulled the computer notebook out of my briefcase and turned it on, (it ran on batteries so there were no cable modems to connect into). My sad statistics greeted me with a lack of vigor and I was doomed to spend the precious period as always, dangerously near a stroke, staring down the pathetic showing before me.

Seventh period, eighth period…finally, the last bell. Time to go to work and spend the day just as I had spent the lunch period and 15 minutes before school. The worst part about it was that I would be there through the night and the following morning, as well. Doomed.

I stepped into the flooded hallways and sighed. Was this the sole purpose of my existence? Make my way hastily through endless crowds so I can witness my own demise sitting there idly? But I wasn't exactly idle…I was doing all that I could…literally all that I could.

I pushed the glass door of the school open and stepped into the mid-day hot sun burning off the sidewalk. It was early October of senior year, but the weather remained stubbornly hot. I didn't mind it exactly, although I never wore shorts or t-shirts for the thought that they were degrading. The last thing I wanted was to look like a goddamn tourist in my own neighborhood and on my way to work.

I stared into the sky, squinting my eyes. The hazy blue looked faded somehow…it wasn't as intense as it usually was.

Absently, I wondered if there was a God. Christians said that heaven reigned in the sky and could only be achieved when you died and "were with God". So God was in the sky? Then why did they say he was always with you? I didn't know a lot about it, no part of my childhood included religion, but you always wonder. I thought that heaven was an imaginary device created by humans to dilute the horror of death. And that I didn't like. When you die, you die. Why create your own illusion of "heaven"?

But heaven aside, I wondered about God. Did he control everything? He did a horrible job of it. People had freewill…he couldn't possibly think the world would work out with free will as a factor. Even so, if he was the Be All End All, why not give the people who needed it some help? Why not show his Divine Hand?

I wondered what would happen when I died. I didn't often think of death, but the realization of it was better than being shocked when it did happen. Eternal blackness? Eternal sleep? That sounded so nice to a restless mind…

Suddenly I was jolted out of my reverie by a body slamming into mine and an American accent yelling, "Hey, Kaiba, watch where you're going!"

Unfortunately, he had hit the spot where just a few hours earlier Toshokama had stomped on my back. The bruise resounded in my nerves, and I was brought back to the night, his laughter reverberating in my shamed ears, humiliating my already humiliated body.

Hate bubbled up inside of me, an unabridged hate that consumed all thought and all action.

That was where I made my mistake.

Without thinking, driven by pure hatred, I turned on my heel and gave Jonouchi a swift punch on the bridge of his nose.

Blood fell onto the lower half of his face all over his lips, dripping down his chin. The sheer force of it knocked him backwards onto the fall, laying face-up and covering his nose with both hands, as blood gushed through the cracks in his fingers.

Yugi and the other two rushed over as soon as he fell. "Katsuya!" they called.

I stared at Jonouchi, realization dawning in me, of what I had just done. I had lost control—lost thought—for a complete minute. The hatred left my eyes and flew away, to leave my weakened, (the hatred had been my only strength).

I didn't like Jonouchi. But I would never be purposely break his nose. I hadn't meant to…I…

"Guh…" I began.

My sound seemed to jolt him back to reality. He was sitting up in a flash, yelling, "What da hell is ya' problem!" through a muffled, nasally voice.

Yugi and the girl with short brown hair were by his side helping him up, asking if he was ok. Jonouchi ignored them and kept yelling at me. The other boy with the spiked hair was yelling at me, too, but I just kept staring at Jonouchi unable to comprehend what they said. I had never lost control like that before…it didn't feel right.

My fist was still poised in the position it had retreated to after punching him. I gently lowered it, realizing that it smarted in my knuckles where contact had been made.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Kaiba?" The boy with the pointed hair asked.

I stared at him and with one look silenced him—the same look that was known to give employees heart attacks.

I turned to Jonouchi, who was standing thanks to the hands of Yugi and the girl. "Gomen nasai, Jonouchi. It won't happen again."

With that…unwanted bit of conversation out of the way, I turned again and left them all—considerably silenced—for my office.

What had just happened there? I was so confused. Were my emotions really that unruly? Damn them. Damn the feelings…they annoyed me to no end, always getting in the way…

I hoped that Jonouchi didn't have a broken nose. Then he would never forgive me. Not that I really wanted forgiveness, it was just that I wanted the situation to be erased from memory. It was easy to do that when your thoughts were in your own head, but when they actually happened it was harder to make people forget.

I cursed the day one thousand times before reaching the office.

I sighed and place my laptop on the desk. One more day to wait out destruction.

I could practically see it. Looming in the distance, so close, almost on top of me…even when I closed my eyes.

A/N: Ok…did this chapter totally suck? Please tell me it didn't…I hope not…I don't know if I wrote it right…(sigh). Well, I tried my best. Anyway, I didn't mean to offend anyone by writing that thing about God and everything…I just honestly think that Seto would believe that if he were in this position. And as a further note, my high school only has eight periods so if anyone was confused by that…there you go.

Did anyone notice that Seto thinks about his company a lot? Yes, you were supposed to believe that. He does! It's like his life. And besides, failure resounds ore loudly in the mind than success, I'm told. Thus.

Once again, sorry about the response to all my reviewers…be sure to include your e-mail in the review if you want me to e-mail you! I don't want to impose on anyone, and those of you that chose to remain "Anonymous", please speak up! Thanks everyone!


	3. Just Weird

Well, I'm back again…hello, hello. It's nice to see you all-! Here's the third chapter, and I'm glad that I've finally gotten it out there; this might be the last chapter for a while. School starts on September 7 for me, I really need to stop worrying about my fics and start worrying about my schedule! But, hell, it's just way too tempting.

This chapter is a little deep…please don't hate me…

And as a quick side note, I hope you all got my e-mails, (it was annoying, but it worked). And an even quicker note to marikslildevil, I tried to e-mail you, but the Mailer Daemon kept coming up that there was no account under your given address…it was weird…so, sorry, if you thought I forgot about you! I didn't! It's just my sad, sad, computer…(and if you have another account, you could give me that address if you want).

Enjoy, everyone!

**_Warning:_** Extreme adult themes. Yaoi, malexmale, homosexuality…you guys get the idea from former chapters, don't you? Don't you!

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

**Chapter Three: Just Weird**

Days seem like years when you're about to die. I knew I was about to die. I could feel death everywhere…sneaking around the fringes of everything. No matter what I did, the edges of my vision seemed coated in death.

I began to become paranoid about it. I would sit there in my office, then suddenly—I would think I'd see someone standing in a corner of my vision, turn my head fast enough to get whiplash, only to be staring at an empty wall.

"That's…weird…I could have sworn…" I said to myself. It was Friday night. Two hours before my flight to Nagasaki. My office was light up despite it being 7:00, (the nights were getting longer…another sign of ultimate death), and the ticking of some clock were all that I heard in the fake lighting. My blue eyes rolled around in my head searching an empty room for signs of life. Eventually I gave up and went back to work.

I was trying not to think about what I would be doing in four hours. I was trying to think that this was the only task I would be completing for the rest of the night. It was not working.

Toshokama. He obviously had something planned for me tonight—other than the sex—just like he did last time. Would he give me the full $80,000 plus the rest? I did the math in my head. $674,000. That would be good enough…if only I could be sure that he was honest with me. Sadly, that would never happen.

And then there was the act…I remembered only too well what had happened the last time…Would he be as rough on me? I still hurt from that ordeal. He must know that, would he enjoy my pain? Probably. I could say almost definitely.

At this thought, my fingers lost the power to move and I abruptly stopped typing. My eyelids closed and I laid my head in my hands. It was all so…

No. It wasn't hopeless just yet. It could be a lot worse. Of course it could. I just had to get through this…maybe that $674,000 would be the final sum of revival for my company, it just needed one push to get back on its feet, after all. I ignored the fact that the overall worth of stock had slipped to $36 since Monday.

Suddenly, the sound of the phone ringing burst through my hearing and startled me out of my lament. I jumped back in my chair.

After thoroughly reminding my heart to beat and my lungs to breathe, I looked at the offending phone. Caller ID labeled the man as "Jonouchi Yoshiho" and listed his phone number. I frowned. "Jonouchi"? My thoughts went back to the mutt…his face looming in my mind with one of his pathetic smiles plastered everywhere, probably giving someone the peace sign or a "thumbs-up". And then the guilt…it squirmed through me as I thought of Jonouchi showing up to school with a black and blue nose and a nasally voice on my account. I remembered my blatant lose of control in front of everyone, the shame that accompanied it. Thank God I just hadn't broken it, otherwise I would have a law suit on my hands…

But I quickly pushed thoughts of Wheeler from my mind when I saw this Jonouchi Yoshiho on the line for me. It was probably just some stupid coincidence.

"Moshi moshi?" I said, picking up the noisy thing and pressing the connection button.

"Kaiba-san! It's so nice to finally get in touch with you!" The voice was easy going and light. He sounded friendly, apt to please, wanting so much to get to know you. Confidence rang clear, but it was not a smug kind of confidence, it was more like a natural thing. There was something about this voice that made you want to listen, a part of you said, "Why not? He sounds nice enough." I was sure suddenly that he had a lot of friends.

I sighed. He was probably a salesman. Or an over-eager, wannabe partner. "Well who are you?"

"Oh, hai, of course! How rude of me not to introduce myself. My name is Jonouchi Yoshiho—President of Oniisan Industries?" Big Brother Industries? What exactly did this guy make a living with? "We're a corporation, just like yourself, that specializes in making infant toys and equipment. Like, baby carriages and strollers, and—.."

"I get the picture, Jonouchi-san."

"Right. Of course. My apologies. Anyway, to get right to the point…I hear that your company has not been doing so well of late. Is that true?"

I blinked and became apprehensive. What was the point of lying? He could just find out for himself in any reputable business magazine. "You could say that, I suppose."

The man made a sympathetic sound like, "Mmm," then went on with, "I'm so sorry to hear that, Kaiba-san. Truly I am. However, I th…" It sounded like he put his mouth away from the phone for a second as his voice faded out. I pressed the receiver to my ear. "…may have a proposition for you." He stopped.

"I'm listening." Suddenly he had my interest. But it was probably nothing, I told myself not to get my hopes up. Yet, I couldn't help it…my heart rose with my spirits, (though my voice remained indifferent).

"Well, I hear from a man named Toshokama that you're in the habit of selling your…pleasurable company…for money, is that not correct, Kaiba-san?"

My heart dropped suddenly. Anger rose instead. And hate. "Never call here again," I said and slammed the phone down, cutting him off abruptly.

How dare he? How DARE he? How DARE HE? Those were the thoughts in my mind. What in all the hells gave Toshokama the right to go spreading around my business? Of course, we never signed any agreement that it would be taboo, but…I assumed it would be a secret…

Who was I kidding? Toshokama was not bound to give me respect. In fact, it was the exact opposite. He didn't have to give me anything—especially not humanity.

I swallowed. Who else knew? This was such a nightmare…and I would keep feeding it. I would keep feeding this nightmare with my own body. It would feast on my very flesh to satisfy itself. Eating and eating…digesting my being. Like the filth that ate through me, so would this horrid situation. A parasite. An infection. A cannibal…

The phone rang again. Once again, I jumped. Caller ID: Jonouchi Yoshiho. This man was not a quitter, it seemed.

I answered it. "I told you never to call here again."

A venomous voice answered me. "I don't like being hung up on, Kaiba-san…you'd do well to know that for future." This voice surprised me. For one split second I wondered if it was the same man. Then I realized it had to be; that he could change his voice at will like every other person alive on the planet. But it was so shocking, the difference. One was like a friend, one was a like a murderer. Is that what he was, a murderer? Killer of prostitutes? I blinked and tried to shake the icy feeling creeping into my blood stream. An injection of fear, straight to the heart, courtesy of Jonouchi-san. It was like a prescription. Curing what?

"I don't her an apology coming from your end, Kaiba-san…" Who the hell did this guy think he was, anyway?

"And you won't," I told him directly. Let's be reasonable.

Silence. Then a shrieking laugh and his voice turned friendly again. "Oh, but I do love a boy that has a little life to him. Let's just forget that last display of rudeness, shall we?"

"Whatever you say." I leaned back in my chair, interested to see how far he would go for this. Of course I would never agree no matter what he flaunted. I wasn't a dollar whore, remember.

"Good. Now…as I was saying, it is true what Toshokama said about you, isn't it?"

"Decide that for yourself."

"But I asked you."

"But you already know the answer." I had gotten him there. He didn't know what to do with that.

So he offered me another shaky laugh, one that wasn't quite as confident as the one he had thrown around before. "Ahh…but you are too right, Kaiba-san. I am free tomorrow night. 1:00 a.m. Should we say…oh, I don't know…$3,000?"

I smirked at first. Then my smirk turned into an all-out cackle. He kept questioning what was so funny, but I just kept laughing. Finally I said, "$3,000? Oh, Toshokama does much better than that, Jonouchi. I suppose I should thank you, though, for your attempt. It was highly amusing."

"Fine, then, name your price, sir."

Just like I had gotten him with the truth earlier, he caught me with this request. Name my price? Name my…price? …Name…price… I thought randomly of all the things I could ask for, (all thoughts of denying him shattered with these three words)…

Then he said, "Within the range of a billion, I should say, of course. But anything from $999,999,999 to $0.01 is for you."

My throat went dry. I was already thinking of my previous plans for tomorrow night in spite of myself. What were they…oh. I had promised Mokuba I would go see a movie with him. I couldn't break that promise. He was my little brother, of course.

Then again…I could see a movie with Mokuba any time. Any time at all. The movies were always open, we could go the very next day if he wanted. I just had to do this one thing…just this one thing and then I would give my brother everything he asked for.

"Kaiba-san?" Jonouchi prompted. "Are you still there, Good Man?"

I was about to name my price, just like instructed, when Mokuba walked in, as if on cue. He just walked right up to me and said, "Hey Seto!" very brightly. Then he realized I was on the phone and corrected himself with, "Oh…gomen, I didn't see the phone…" in a hushed whisper.

I closed my eyes. How could I possibly give up Mokuba just for the chance of some price? Any price in the world wasn't enough to sell out Mokuba. Especially at the cost of what I needed to do for that money…

"Gomen nasai, Jonouchi-san. I do not believe I'm free tomorrow night."

"Now wait just a moment! I agreed to give you anything you asked for in exchange—.."

"I'm going to hang up now, Jonouchi. Is there anything else you wish to say?"

Silence once more. Then an exasperated sigh. "Iie. Enjoy your plans. I know when I'm defeated. But I'll be back, I can promise you that, Kaiba-san. Don't forget about me. Sayonara." He hung up violently.

Smiling to myself at my victory—(over who I couldn't quiet decide: Myself or Jonouchi?)—I placed the phone down gently and turned to face Mokuba.

"Hey, Mokuba," I greeted.

"Gomen, Seto. I didn't see the phone before."

I looked into innocent, truly sorry purple eyes. He was standing in front of my desk wringing his hands, desperate for the approval of a big brother he had lost a long time ago. He had lost him in an entirely different matter than this present one, so many years back…and he wasn't so much as lost as he was stolen. The exact culprit of the theft was still being calculated. But the deed was still done.

My brother's eyes weighed heavily on my infected soul. "It was nothing, Mokuba. A minor mistake with no consequences. Think nothing of it, alright?"

His eyes went perky again. "Ok, Seto!"

My smile was thin, barely there.

Mokuba went to go sit on the couch and watch T.V. as he did so often in my office—(why exactly there was a television in a Kaiba Corp. office is not understood)—and asked offhandedly, but oh-so-hopefully, "Are we still on for tomorrow night?"

"Of course, Mokuba. I wouldn't trade it for the world."

He didn't know how literal that was.

Later on in the evening, aboard my flight, I sat staring out the window of the plane watching the night clouds break against the wings Once again I had gotten a window seat. And thank god because I didn't know what I would do if I had to sit between two other people…

The man next to me was reading a newspaper and every so often coughing loud enough to shake the pages in his hand. He seemed to be about 40, hair balding on top with enough weight around the middle to make his seating a tight fit. I didn't like this gentleman who resided in the endless black ink of the _Daily Domino_. He had a permanent frown on his face and his eyes were small and angry. I don't know how I knew it, but I knew that he would blow up at the flight attendant when she handed him the wrong drink in the middle of the flight.

"This is not nearly what I asked for, woman!" He yelled, shaking the cup of rum at her. "I asked for it to be On the Rocks not straight!"

"Gomen, sir, I see a lot of people—.."

"This is unacceptable!" He stood up. People began staring at him.

"Sir! Sir please sit down…" The seat belt sign was on. I had my head leaning against the window. From that awkward position I managed a smirk. I hoped he hit his head on the ceiling during turbulence and die because of his stupid drink. That would cheer the night up a little.

But they continued to argue about it, more attendants coming to try and console this rather inconsolable man, offering him drinks everywhere. It became rather tiresome after a while.

"Sumimasen," (Excuse me) I said after I just couldn't take it anymore. I turned to the cacophony of flight attendants and passengers before me. "But if you don't shut up I will be forced to staple your mouth shut, dear man." Of course I was speaking to my fellow traveler, not the others.

That shut him up. Quite well, if I must say so. He went back to sit down immediately after my input without one more word throughout the flight. I nodded at the attendants who seemed grateful if a little shocked that it was alright for them to get back to reality and not this parade of patronization. I felt sorry for them, but this display of victory over an irate passenger helped to boast my spirits in part before I arrived at Toshokama's home.

Before, not after.

The Toshokama Manor was not all that much different from my own, if it was a little smaller. My house had eight floors and was extremely wide. His home had seven floors, but it wasn't really that wide—just very, very tall. From the outside you could see a cathedral ceiling jutting up from the top floor. In the dark, I wasn't sure of the color, but I knew that it was not white. The mansion…the tallness of it, the color of it, the overall décor it boasted…it just gave off an aura of no forgiveness. You could tell people had been killed in this home. I don't know how or why, but I knew there were skeletons in its many closets.

Suppressing a shudder, I stepped up to the closed gates and turned on the intercom. Immediately the fat, smug face of Toshokama appeared on a black and white screen. I wasn't ready for the emotions that hit me as I stared at this man. That one night…

"Ah, Kaiba! I was hoping that you hadn't forgotten about our little rendezvous, I was actually just about to give you a call myself."

I said nothing but stared at the screen in deep and utter hate.

He noticed my silence and mimicked it by simply opening the gate and gesturing me to come towards him. The creaky sound of rusty metal subsided and I stepped through, accepting my fate as a man on Death Row gives the man permission to inject the needle.

Just the same as the previous time, I found my way to his office purely out of instinct. I didn't need a butler or a maid to direct me, I remembered it perfectly well.

Unfortunately the door to his office was already open so I had no time to collect myself before I entered. He sat there in his deep maroon suit—smoking a cigar, if you can believe that—and said, "Konbanwa, Kaiba-san."

Closing the door behind me, I jutted my chin upwards and gave my best attempt at looking brave. I felt small on the inside, ready to hide. But I would never let him see that fear, that smallness. I would give my best acting and show him I was not afraid.

A deep part of me wanted to fight this man. I wanted to just have a turn to kick him in the balls, maybe even rip said balls off so he would never want to meet like this again. I wanted to revert back to my method of self-protection: Fighting. But I would never be given this chance. And nothing would come of it except self-satisfaction, anyway. I needed the $674,000 more than I needed my pride right now.

We stared at each other once again.

"What, no words for such a kind man who gives you money so your company can be reborn?"

_No love for rapists, I suppose._ I would never say this.

"Iie?" he asked, eyes widening like I was a child. I remained indifferent. I refused to say anything to indulge this man of torment.

His face returned to normal. "Fine. I like it better when you're silent, anyway, Kaiba."

I gritted my teeth. I wanted to bite my tongue, make myself bleed so I wouldn't have to think about this humiliation, internal bleeding.

Now he would wait. Wait for me to undress. Wait for me to be ready. Wait for the administrations to begin.

I closed my eyes, set down my briefcase, and gave him what he was waiting for.

It hurt more this time. I don't know why…maybe because I was still healing form the first time. But damn did it hurt. I really did have to bite my tongue and make it bleed substantially just to keep from screaming. The rug dug into my fingernails as I wrapped my fist in it. My whole body clenched and unclenched with his movements. I hated how I bended to him. I wished I was stronger. I wished I could get up and beat the shit out of him right then and there, kill him even.

And suddenly I thought of Katsuya. Something he had said on Wednesday, the day after I had…accidentally…hit him square in the face. "Hey, Kaiba! What da hell happened yesterday? Did ya' forget how to be human? I bet dat happens a lot, don't it?" The way he said it, though, with such a nasally voice, the bruises shining around his noise and sinuses…I had just given him a decent retort back and thought nothing of it at the time, but now…I felt like breaking down and laughing hysterically. If you thought about it, it really was pretty funny.

So right there, with Toshokama all over me, I began to chuckle from deep within my soul. "Katsuya…" I whispered. "Baka…" (Idiot) He was cute, though, just a little cute, not a lot.

It seemed to be over more quickly after that little bout of giggles, (an extremely weird time for giggling, of course, something that Kaiba Seto did not even do, giggling, something that was unspeakably weird, even a little sick if you think about it. Someone who laughs while they're being raped. Sometimes I wonder about the depths of my sanity…are they really that shallow?), which was a true and definite blessing.

Toshokama was in basically the same apathetic manner after it was over. He did not stomp on my back or cackle at my humility. In fact, he almost seemed to ignore me after he finished.

Dressed and collected—(or as collected as I was going to get after that experience)—I stood in front of his desk with an open briefcase. He just sighed and placed the money in. It looked like a lot more than what he had doled up previously, but I was wary by his disreputability. I counted it. $80,000.

I guess I was prepared for the shock this time. I merely sighed and told him, without looking at his back—which was once again facing me, "This is only $80,000."

"And that is what we agreed on, is it not?"

"What about the rest of Monday night's payment? You said you would—.."

"I said I'd give it to you 'if you were good'. I hardly call that near-sleep performance you just gave me 'good', Kaiba-san."

Emotions rose up…anger, yes, mixed with a little bit of frustrated surrender. "What the hell do you expect from me, Toshokama?" I hated the way my voice cracked when I spoke his name. I hated myself for that.

"Better, Kaiba. I expect you to be better next time."

"Next time?" What was he…no. No, no he could think I would go back for a third round, it wasn't possible, it wasn't humanly possible. I wouldn't. I wouldn't. I just wouldn't.

"Yes, next Tuesday I believe I have a free night."

"Toshokama…I am not coming back. This was only supposed to be a one time deal when we began, I only agreed to come tonight because—.."

"Because the price was right." It was really getting annoying that he cut me off before I could finish my sentence. Unfortunately, he was right. That's what I had come back for. More money.

What kind of horrible creature was I? I had given into this…damn it.

I just stared at his back. Quiet unable to speak after this realization hit me.

He turned to face me, cigar smoking billowing around his lips, (and head, and ears, and $1,000 maroon suit). "I'll give you a full $90,000 on Tuesday…and if you start liking this arrangement, perhaps the rest of Monday night's payment."

I wondered if my eyes were as numb as I felt.

"Do the math, Kaiba. How much would that payment be?" He gasped when he figured it out. "$684,000…that is a lot of money, isn't it?"

I struggled with my emotions. "Fine. Tuesday." Giving in.

"Same time, same place, same thing—only better, right, Kaiba-san?"

I said nothing but shoved my hand in his face. He shook it.

I left, broken, doomed, dying. The death around my vision could not have been darker. Toshokama was going to keep using me until I said no. I could never say no. Not until my company was back on top.

For the first time I realized how truly trapped I was. This could go on forever.

On the plane, I tried to console myself. It would not be forever. Because eventually my company would have to be returned to its original state. That was the only thing that made sense for it, logical sense. Logic. I could always rely on logic.

But even so, the $79,999 I added to the bank account seemed like so little…so useless, frivolous really.

I called Ichigata from the limousine. I told him the amount of money I added and he seemed to be a little excited. Not much, just a little. After all, the money wasn't enough to be jumping for joy, but it was enough to buy yourself one extra drink at the bar, (a place Ichigata had been spending more and more ever since the downfall, not that I blamed him), or so he told me.

My house was dark when I got home. It was 2:00 in the morning, Mokuba was asleep and the maids left at 10:00. The maids…I had had to dock their pay of late and most of them had already left. But I still had a few. Bless those few, making sure things were still in working order at my home while I awaited death at the office. I felt bad giving them so little in return.

I trudged up to my room, leaving the lights off and nearly throwing the briefcase on the floor. I sat down on the bed, removing my trench coat. My mind felt like it was racing but there was no information to process. I blinked hard trying to clear it, but how do you clear your mind of nothing?

Pills. I needed the sleeping pills. I tore open the drawer and rummaged for that red plastic bottle I needed so much. Glorious red plastic…

I gasped when I held it close to me face. There were…none left. I had used them all…

In anger, I threw the empty bottle across the room. It hit the wall and cracked. I was glad for that. Why? Why did I care if the bottle cracked as it hit the wall? Why did it matter? My mind could not supply the answers.

So, I would be forced to get sleep by my own devices…that did not bode well. It also wouldn't happen.

I suppose I lay there for about an hour before the door bell rang. It practically scared the hell out of me. No one ever used it; I rarely had any visitors. Suddenly I was glad for that. The sound was awful. It reverberated through the entire mansion and split my eardrums. I got up and went to my door.

Mokuba came flying out of nowhere and ran straight into my arms. It startled me, but I allowed it, (he was undeniably cute in his baggy pajama pants and oversized T-shirt).

"Seto…" he said against my chest. "What is that?"

I sighed and tried to move downstairs to answer the door. But he held me tight. "It's just the doorbell, Mokuba."

He relaxed a little, (meaning he let go of me but still looked wary). "Well, it's scary!"

It rang again. He whimpered and covered his ears. "Ai!"

I shook my head and massaged my ears. "Ai…hai…it needs to be replaced. It is very old."

I moved down the stairs.

"Seto, where are you going?" Mokuba ran after me.

"Well, I have to answer it."

He ran behind me in the dark of my mansion and grasped my hand. "Be careful," he whispered.

I smirked. "Don't worry, Mokuba."

When we were standing on the top of the large wooden staircase that led to the door I told Mokuba to stay at the top—just in case. He agreed readily and said that he would keep watch and call someone if anything happened. I smirked again when he ran for the phone and returned all in the same minute. His feet barely made any noise on the carpet as he ran. The cuteness twisted with the despair and made a mess of emotions.

When he both decided we were ready, (more for Mokuba's benefit than my own), I went down and opened the door, (A/N: He doesn't have that gate thing that Toshokama has, in case you were wondering).

You can't possibly imagine my surprise at seeing Jonouchi Katsuya standing in front of me.

"Jonouchi?" I said, frowning at his puppy-like face and shaggy blonde hair. Was it…really him? That made no sense…

"Hey, Kaiba." It sounded like him, looked like him…my mind was yelling that it really was him. But…

"Jonouchi, it's almost 3:00 in the morning. What are you doing here?"

I noticed that the bruises and swellings on his nose were subsiding. That made me feel a little better, perhaps the pain and the shame of it all were subsiding as well. Or…he had shown up to shoot me in the face as payback.

"I jus' wanted to…" A hand came up and rubbed the back of his neck. "Uh…I jus' wanted…to…"

I shifted my position to that of defiance as I waited.

He continued to stutter. "I guess, I jus' wanted to see…how ya' were doin'…"

I blinked at him. "What?"

"Well, ya' kinda gave me a scare when ya' punched me on Tuesday…I was wonderin' if ya' were okay." His eyes showed sincerity. Was it real? Why was he really here?

"Jonouchi, why are you really here?"

"I jus' wanted to talk, alright?" His voice rang with frustration and anger. That showed me one thing: He really didn't know why he was here.

"You don't know why you're here, do you?" I asked.

"Not at all." His eyes were normal now. Not hilarious, or angry, or cute…just, normal.

I nodded and looked down. I hadn't been prepared for Jonouchi, my mind was still reeling from Toshokama's, when I had thought of him unexpectedly and laughed, and everything else I had done there, the realizations. I needed time to work my emotions over before I faced him again. I wasn't ready.

"Can I come in?" He asked hesitantly.

"Iie!" I said sharply, thinking of Mokuba and what it would mean if Jonouchi just came wandering into my home.

It was only when he shifted his head in shock that I saw the bruises on his neck.

"Well, fine, Kaiba!" A pause. I was speechless. Why was he bruised? I knew those weren't from me…

"Look, I don' know why da hell I'm here, and I think it was a mistake to come here in the first place. It is really damn late and you were tryin' to sleep and everythin', so I'm jus' gonna go."

He turned around.

"Wait!" I couldn't let him go just yet. I had to…

His head looked over his shoulder at me with angry eyes. "What?"

"Dōmō. For coming by. Dōmō arigatō." (Thanks, thank you)

His body stood there, very still, for a moment longer. Then he said, "Sure," very quietly and walked off my property.

I swallowed hard when he was out of sight and sucked in a breath. I had forgotten to breathe for some reason…why was that?

Oh, hell, what a night this was. I shook my head, shut the door and climbed the stairs. I had to admit that I was surprised Mokuba hadn't come running down as soon as he saw Jonouchi. They were friends, weren't they?

The answer was quite clear when I saw Mokuba curled up against the railing at the top of the stairs. He was sound asleep. I smiled. Well, it was quite late for him. Trying my best not to wake him, I scooped him into my arms and began the ascent to his bedroom.

Halfway there he began to stir in my arms and he said sleepily, "Oh, gomen, Seto, I fell asleep. I wasn't there for you…"

"Iie, iie…" I told him softly. "You did very well, Mokuba." That comforted him and fell quickly back to sleep.

I tucked him into his bed and made sure he was perfectly comfortable. Just before I left, I tucked a loose strand of midnight black hair behind his ear. He looked so peaceful when he slept…I wished I could achieve that peace one day.

I laughed at myself inwardly when I left his room. Of course that would never happen to me. Why did I deserve that peace?

Laying on my bed, I tried to forget about Jonouchi coming to my house in the middle of the night and concentrate on sleep. Ironically, it was eventually the thought of Jonouchi's face that got me to sleep. His peaceful face, the one with the dopey smile and the almost-too-happy features.

"Jonouchi…" I whispered right before I went to sleep. "Dōmō…"

A/N: There we go…I finally got that out. Now I feel so much better! Like I said before, I'm not sure if this will be the last chapter for a while…ugh…school…but it might be. I really have to get on the ball with this…(sigh).

Well, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, it actually came a little easy to me. I've been looking forward to writing all, so that was a relief. And now, as you could have probably guessed, we're going to be getting to the real start of the SetoxJou. I know you were all wondering when, but here it is. Ohand I'm sorry this chapter was so unbearably short! Wow…I have to tell you, I don't think this story will be as long as my other one, I have less paths to cross with it, so it may not be as long, I hope you don't mind.

Another quick note to fallen-angel-of-repression, I'm halfway done with your story, be patient with me…it's really good so far but I just don't have a lot of time to read stories trying to do so much other stuff at the same time…forgive me! But I promise that I will get it done. Really.

Review, please, everyone!


	4. The Oak Hole

Here is the fourth chapter. After hour long struggles, I have finally poured enough blood into this thing to get it out there. Just kidding. But it really was hard, a lot of blood did go into this…I wasn't sure about a lot of it, and I had serious writer's block and doubt about the story itself… So yeah. You'll read it and then you'll decide if I suck or not, ne? Thanks so much for the reviews, all! I gain happiness with each passing one, (and that's rare for me). Enjoy!

Oh and yes school started. (Obviously, yeah, that's why I've been so late in updating.) In case anyone was worried or anything, I'm fine…lol. High School is pretty fun, actually.

By the way, one reviewer said that I should try to keep the chapters as deep as possible. I will try! Here it goes, hope you're not disappointed.

**_Warning:_** This story is not good for little children and people that are homophobic and dislikes yaoi pairings. Leave now or the waters will be rough ahead, I can promise you that.

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh or any mentions of the movie Sin City, (although I wish I did…).

**Chapter Four: The Oak Hole**

"Seto, we don't want to be late! The movie is going to start without us, you know!"

I sighed in aggravation. We were sitting in the car, (I was obviously in the driver's seat, expected to start the car already so we could get moving, Mokuba was squirming in the passenger seat next to me, barking orders from his little 12-year-old mouth). At 3:00 sharp Mokuba had pushed me out of my office and, using his master-mind tactics of persuasion, into the car. He told me that he wasn't going to take any chances with me, things needed to be placed under his jurisdiction if we were going to go at all. Unbeknownst to him, I had given up the chance of one billion dollars to do this. There was no way in hell I would miss out now.

Jamming the key into the ignition, I said, "Mokuba, the movie doesn't start for another half hour, we have time."

"Well, you want to get a good seat, right?"

"Put your seat belt on," I told him, ignoring the previous question as I pushed the gas pedal and startled the car into moving at a comfortable speed.

Mokuba chattered incessantly about the movie all the way to the cinema. We were going to see a movie called _Sin City_, which, apparently, all the kids in his school had seen and he had heard oh so much about. However, he strangely couldn't tell me anything about the plot other than the fact that Jessica Alba played a stripper.

I wasn't really paying him any mind, I figured the movie wasn't going to be that bad if all his friends had seen it and not had a problem with it. Unconsciously, I pushed thoughts of the movie away from me and began thinking about more pressing matters. Like my company.

The overall value of stock had slipped to $30 despite all the money from Toshokama, and the money from my various amusement parks and theme centers. It didn't make any sense…then I reminded myself. Yes it did. Companies fall, they break, they die. Don't they? Of course they do.

Perhaps it was time to begin thinking about trashing the company and starting again with a new source of income, (begin making new products, things other than Duel Monsters equipment, the same thing I did with Gozaburo's company when I came to charge). But…that would mean…giving up on the very dream I had derived when starting the company. That would mean, quitting.

_It's not really quitting, per se…It's more like…accepting defeat and trying to save your own skin. _

That's the synonym for quitting. Is it not? Of course it is…I can't quit now. I would succeed with this Duel Monsters business. Things would look up soon, I knew. After all…there was Tuesday night, with the $684,000. That was bound to help some.

Oh who the hell was I kidding? There was no chance in all the seven goddamn hells that Toshokama was going to give me nearly that much. He probably wouldn't even give me the $90,000. I'd be lucky to get that much, honestly.

_Then why do it?_

That question I couldn't answer. I supposed it was because of…all the psychological comfort of knowing that despite all the hardship of giving myself unwillingly to someone I was still doing something to try. Trying.

Or maybe…because it was the little bit of love I had been getting through-out all this, the little bit of needed punishment along with a little bit of protection I felt when I was under his heavy weight…

What the fuck? Of course that wasn't the reason why! Of course not! I mentally slapped myself for even thinking such horrible nonsense. What the hell was I, a depraved child or something sick? Of course not. Iie. Iie. Iie. I was doing this for the money and nothing more. Goddamn myself for that wretched, wretched thought. God. Maybe I really was sick. Maybe I needed a shrink. Maybe I wasn't nearly the strong person my stepfather had brought up. Maybe I was just a pathetic weakling who enjoyed being raped. Maybe I was.

Iie. Iie, of course not. Iie, those thoughts before were just weird things from a mind deprived of sleep.

Sleep, right…I had been able to sleep the night before, but only for an hour. I missed my damn sleeping pills. I would need to stop by the pharmacy and pick up some more on my way home from the movies.

Briefly in the distance I heard my name being called.

"Seto? Seto? Seto? Are you okay?"

It was Mokuba. Groggily, I turned my head in his direction and said, "Hai. What is it?"

"You passed the cinema three blocks back!"

I sighed. "Gomen. I'll go back." Sloppily, I made a U-turn and went back under Mokuba's directions to the movie theatre. I parallel-parked in front of the place in a spot I was sure to see later. It felt like I would loose it if I couldn't see it as soon as I left, I was that tired.

The car fizzled out of life. We sat in silence before getting out. What was he waiting for? He probably wondered the same. Things were suddenly very awkward.

Mokuba fidgeted. "Seto…are you sure you're okay? Because if you feel sick or something we could go back home and maybe you could rest—.."

"Iie, Mokuba. I'm fine. Let's just go in, shall we?" I opened the door with a loud _clunk_ and went to the other side to help my little brother out. He moved with his head down, seeming reluctant.

"What's wrong, Otōto?" I asked, staring at the black forest of the top of his head.

"….Nothing…"

We were walking to the front of the elaborately decorated movie theatre. A line of people snaked out the door, prophesizing an extensive wait in our future.

"I thought you wanted to see this movie, Mokuba." I was trying to make him brighter by mentioning the things he liked, (a pathetic tactic, but a semi-effective one at times). I really couldn't understand his dismay. It was probably something that I had done, once again. I never knew what he wanted; I was a terrible big brother.

"I do, but…" He still eyed the floor.

I took the bottom of his chin in my hand and lifted his face to meet mine, ceasing the walk. We would settle this now or not at all, I knew. "But what?"

His purple eyes vibrated with emotion as they stared at me, burning my face. He forced his head out of my hands and said, "Seto…there's something wrong with you, lately. I know it! Why won't you tell me what it is? I want to help!"

I shifted the weight in my legs and stared at a pebble in the cement, anything to get the focus off my accusing little brother who was absolutely right. I should just tell him already. So what if he knew that the company was going down? So what if he found out that his precious big brother was a prostitute? No harm down there, right? Obviously not. I couldn't possibly tell him, not in the open public, anyway.

Of course I never counted on him guessing. "Is Kaiba Corp. not doing so well, Seto? Is that it?"

Unwillingly, I tore my gaze from the pebble and looked at him through pained eyes. "Mokuba…" Why couldn't I deny it? That was the only logical way to keep him happy, wasn't it? But then I realized. He wasn't happy. He knew it anyway. If he wanted, at any time, he could look up online or in the newspaper my company's value of stock. And he would then figure everything out for himself. And worse, he would know that I had been lying to him all this time.

Was it possibly better to tell him straight out right now?

"What, Seto?" Now he seemed just aggravated. He stared at me again, a tired look lurking in his eyes.

I wrenched my vision back to the pebble.

"Hai…" I said.

Mokuba looked at me imploringly. "Hai? You mean…that the company is not doing good?" Inwardly, I smirked at his cuteness despite everything else, ("good" instead of "well").

"Hai." This time more forcefully.

My little brother stared at me. Now he knew what a failure I was. But strangely, I didn't feel only the shame. I felt a little twinge of relief mixed in it. I didn't have to pretend anymore…

He nodded, finally. "Ok. Well…how bad?"

Hell. I had gone this far. "Thirty."

"Overall?" His eyebrows shot up.

I nodded.

A tiny jaw dropped. "Seto…" he choked out. "What happened?"

The relief was gone. Now there was only the shame. The utter shame at having failed in everything I had tried to achieve. Why the hell had I told him? What was wrong with me? Was I retarded? Was I sick?

I raised a hand to my forehead and touched my fingertips to my eyebrow. "People don't care about Duel Monsters anymore…"

"That's not true! Everyone at school still plays with them! It's still really big!"

Now I was confused. I had been assured that Duel Monsters was certainly not the thing any longer…could I be wrong? Then why…iie, Mokuba was the one with misgivings. "Mokuba, I don't think you're correct."

He blinked back in surprise. "I am."

I stared at him. Maybe his friends were the only ones that still played with them. Hai, that was probably it. "Well, regardless, it's still only thirty."

Mokuba's eyes widened and he sighed. "That's crazy…Seto, I—.."

But the sound of the loud speaker from the movie theatre came across us saying, "The 3:30 showing of _Sin City_ has only three seats left. Will all parties containing over three people please leave. Arigatō gozaimasu."

I looked at Mokuba. "Do you still want to see it?"

He nodded weakly, still looking reluctant.

But we had come all the way here and I had cancelled all my plans, so I took his hand and walked briskly to the front of the line where they gave us our tickets, (and an odd look when they saw Mokuba's youngness, which I wasn't to figure out until the movie began). They sat us down in two middle seats, one next to a fat woman who had three bags of large popcorn and four candy wrappers around her feet. She seemed nice, though, as she smiled at Mokuba when he sat next to her, discussed characters of the film with him, and offered him some of her food at various times during the picture. (I deemed her safe and allowed this two hour friendship to transpire.) The other seat next to me was occupied by an older man who looked lonely. He didn't have anything to eat or drink and throughout the duration of the picture he sat with his arms wrapped tightly around himself and his large jacket.

As soon as I saw Nick Stahl as a child molester I began to wonder if my judgment was wise in letting Mokuba view this film. Of course as soon as Micky Rourke made his appearance with Goldie and Mokuba had to lean over to me to ask what they were doing together, I immediately cursed myself and my stupid thinking that just because his friends had seen it everything would be fine. I massaged the bridge of my nose and told Mokuba that they were just talking. Yet, by the end of it all, he figured it out on his own I'm sure.

The very second the screen went black and the red lettering appeared for the credits, I hustled Mokuba out of there, just in time for him to say his good-byes to the kind woman next to us.

"Wow, that was a great movie, Seto!" Mokuba said happily as the double doors swung behind us on our way out, (maybe he had forgotten about our discussion before the movie?).

"Iie. It was not." I hated the movie. I wasn't sure if it was because it was just about killing or the fact that they had glorified the degrading life accompanying prostitution. How…dare they? Did they not know of the pain that went with the sex? Did they think that prostitutes could run everything, like the fabled city of Old Town?

Mokuba gasped. "Really…I thought you would have loved that movie. You like that kind of stuff, don't you? Killing, mob dealings…and they even had samurai action in it, Seto!"

I blinked. He was absolutely right. A few months ago before this whole thing with Toshokama and my company I probably would have loved that movie more than Mokuba. "You're right…" I told him. "It's just…"

"Nani?" Mokuba asked. "What?" We were standing just outside of the car.

"I guess my tastes changed." I flashed him a brief smile to calm those worrisome eyes and opened the car door. When we were alone in the car together Mokuba got serious.

"Seto…about before…" I revved the car and pulled out widely.

"I don't want to talk about it, Mokuba."

My little brother, who had to brace himself against the speed of the pull-out said, "I know…but…I have an idea."

"I don't want to talk about it, Mokuba." I was weaving through the traffic, people were honking at me. I just wanted to get home. I couldn't care less about those people who were afraid of my dangerous driving techniques.

"Seto, watch out!" I swerved to miss an oncoming truck. But I did not slow down.

"Seto, be careful! Drive safe!" I did not heed him. I just kept looking indifferently out of the windshield as my hands seemed to drive the car of their on volition.

I didn't relax until we were home. I pulled forcefully into the garage and shut the car off immediately upon arrival. When I let go of the steering wheel, I let out a gigantic breath and began panting. When had I begun holding my breath? Probably about the time Mokuba stopped talking about my company because he was too busy helping me mind the road and trying to calm my road rage.

Mokuba was panting, too, but probably because he was scared. "Kami, Seto…you have to be more careful when you drive."

I nodded. "Sure." I moved to depart from the vehicle, but Mokuba grabbed me. Upon feeling the tiny hand wrap around my forearm I halted, even though I could have easily yanked him off of me.

I would have had to face this either way. Any time. Soon, as a matter of fact.

"What is it, Mokuba?"

He sighed. I saw him near tears again. "Seto…could it be time to call Katsumoto-san?"

My insides froze at hearing the name. A deep hate rose in me immediately after it. I turned to Mokuba ready to strangle him for even uttering that name. (I did not.)

"Iie," I said briefly and stonily. There was no way I would ever call him. Ever. Not even if this prostitution failed and everything turned to nothing.

"Get out of the car now, Mokuba." My little brother seemed hurt that I had to be so rough with him, but I did not care. I had to be alone now. No more talking.

Even after Mokuba left, I felt the hate of Katsumoto's memory. Of course, the one who had sparked this hate in me, (Mokuba-chan), did not know why I hated the sound of it so much, and perhaps never would. I wanted to keep my little brother's innocence as long as I could. For now, I just needed to forget that Katsumoto had ever been brought up and just go on with what I had been doing lately. Jesus. Compared to Katsumoto, Toshokama seemed like a warm father giving me understanding hugs instead of forced sex.

I felt so numb…sitting there in the car. There had been too many emotions today in these short hours; I needed to relax them all at once. But I could not. One hand ran itself through my hair. Too many thoughts.

And Katsumoto was like a tick. Once he wormed his way into your skin, he stayed put stubbornly, feasting himself on your blood, growing fatter at your own displeasure. I could not get him out of my mind now.

I sighed. Sleep would feel so good and…damn. I had forgotten about the cursed sleeping pills I wanted to buy from the pharmacy. I would be without sleep for days, now. Like that would help for anything.

One more sigh. I threw my head back against the car's head rest and closed my weary eyes.

Suddenly and for no reason at all, I began thinking about Jonouchi. He had actually shown up at my house the night before. So unexpectedly…somehow I had managed to repress all thoughts of him from my mind until just that moment. Maybe Jonouchi was like Katsumoto. He slunk inside your mind and stayed there until you noticed him.

Iie.

Jonouchi was not like that. Not at all.

I thought of Jonouchi and suddenly thought of the bruises. Who had hurt him? Why were they there? I didn't presume to know anything about Jonouchi's life other than the fact that he was poor, (that fact was obvious enough by his mannerisms and clothing, perpetually ragged). Maybe he was involved in a gang somewhere. Probably. Or maybe he had been mugged. Or maybe his father beat the hell out of him every night and raped him on the floor of his bedroom. I had no idea. And I couldn't think about Jonouchi without feeling the guilt that went along with the punch I had administered to him and the rudeness I gave him when he had shown up after who-knew what madness. It was all my fault.

I sighed. What way could I fix all these problems? Well, there were some that proved to be utterly irreparable, like Toshokama and his nonsense, (could it be called nonsense? Not really. It meant too much to be nonsense). And of course my company. That needed fixing. But…I had no solution to these problems. They were too different to be considered one and the same problem, it was more like they were intertwined problems, even if you fixed one of them, the other would still be there.

Violently, I pushed thoughts of that aside and thought about the ones I could fix. Mokuba. That would take a hug and nothing less. I could give a hug. Hopefully he would leave my company to me…I could fix that, too, once I reminded him who the big brother was. Mokuba was easy. Maybe that's why I loved him so much; he was never one of the real problems in my life. He just floated above everything.

Jonouchi. Could I fix that, too? Make inu? The mutt? Maybe. I didn't honestly know.

How could I? What did he want? Maybe…maybe I had to return the favor of what he had done last night. Maybe I had to show up at his house and apologize.

Definitely not. First of all, I really didn't owe Jonouchi an apology. He was the one that had come to my house in the middle of the night, not the other way around, and just because I had acted badly about it, didn't mean that it was necessarily my fault. How could I be expected to act at that ungodly, hateful hour? Especially after what I had been through that night alone.

Whatever. I didn't really care after all…

Or did I? I wouldn't be thinking about it if I didn't care.

Shut-up.

I opened my eyes and sat up. What did I really need to do right now? I really needed to work on my company and see what could fix that huge problem—that problem was bigger than Jonouchi goddamn it.

I put my hand to the ignition and prepared to pull out and head for Kaiba Corp. But I stopped before I actually did it. My hand wouldn't move. My mind was telling it to, but I just couldn't.

At that moment in time, I would have rather died than go to my company. That wretched place of death. That horrible accursed…I could not go there. I would sooner throw my precious laptop against the pavement.

I dropped my hand. Where else would I go? I could not very well stay in this place. It was a horrible garage in the first place, too empty. And I could not go into my house—what would I do besides work? Mokuba was not ready for me; I was not ready for him. The best thing for me to do was leave this place and go somewhere.

So, I left my car and my house and I began walking to a park known simply as Domino City Park. Sometimes I felt bad that they had no other name for it, and other times it amused me. The park was located right in the very center of the city. At least now there was no confusion over that, thanks to the name.

The sun was slanted in the sky. It was about 4:00 now. It started getting dark around 6:00. I had a few hours unless I wanted to stay in the dark, (which didn't seem to daunt me, Mokuba would not be nervous if he didn't find me, he would think I was at the office).

I walked down the city streets in my blue trench coat, hands jammed in my pockets. People shuffled around me, too busy to pay any mind to those around them unless people were stationed in a group in which case there was laughter all around and directly in your ear when they passed. Everyone seemed like they had this huge important place in life, yapping into cell phones angrily, eyes floating above the crowd, pushing their way through.

Where was my place among these people? I had once been just like them, my own display of cell phones attached to my belt as proof. But now…I had no more company, basically. Who did that make me? I was certainly not important. I had nothing to show for all the intelligence I once boasted. Everything that had happened between me and my stepfather…everything that I had overcome in my life…it was all nothing.

_That's not true_, I told myself as I reached the park. _You have the memories._

Memories. What good were memories? They couldn't save me in times of trouble. They couldn't really do anything for me, just remind me of what I once was.

I reached the park gates. They were long and tall, rusted over but somehow inviting to me. Green bushes and empty walkways beckoned me inside, promising space to think, clear of the crowds. That was nice enough.

As soon as I entered the park, I tried to stop myself from reciting the regular pity party. I needed to do something else with my thoughts. This was just ruining me. Think about something else.

Like what?

The flowers had come in nicely on the side of the walkway. They were so bright, pink and cheery. Every time I passed another giant bush of them, I had to close my eyes. The flowers were cruel to me, mocking me with their happiness. Nothing unfortunate had ever happened, or would ever happen, to those flowers to stain their petals in blackness…unless there was suddenly a rain storm and I could watch as they drowned in their only source of food, gulping in too much water. And then they would die.

I moved past this cheeriness and entered a grassy area where giant oak trees blocked out the sunlight. It was like a hidden area in the park, I don't think many people went there. I went and sat down in the middle of this patch of darkness.

It was strangely peaceful there. I could feel the wind blowing around me, faintly hear the sounds of the city as they rumbled around me, feel the soft grass beneath my fingertips, and lean my head against the strong oak trees. This was a wonderful place. It was like being inside a hole, hiding from the enemy. I enjoyed it. This was my new place. My Oak Hole.

I closed my eyes. The trees rustled their leaves above me soothingly. There was no one here…my secret place…no one would find me…alone…darkness…hole…alone…

Water droplets fell on my face. One. Two. Four. Six. Ten…it was raining. (Well, I had gotten my wish.)

I opened my eyes. Almost pure darkness met them, for a moment shock rang through my heart, had I gone blind? And then my pupils adjusted. I made out the outline of the trees, the soft rain coming down. It was not at all a violent downpour, just a soft shower really. And it was so warm. Not humid, just warm.

A sigh of relief. I was still safe. But it was so dark…

I looked at my watch. What the living hell? 10:39? At night? How the hell is that possible…I must have fallen asleep.

That was weird. I hadn't planned on staying over six hours. Mokuba…was he starting to worry? Probably not. No one really cared, I didn't think. That was good. This could just be my little secret…no one had to know about this, after all, this place was mine, right?

And then I heard footsteps in the distance, feet clomping through newly formed puddles. Damn. Maybe I wasn't alone. Oh well. It was probably just a park ranger or something closing up for the night…hopefully, anyway. I only prayed that they hadn't locked me in here by myself.

Slowly, the footsteps approached. Maybe I should make an attempt to leave before this person showed up. Just as I was about to stand up, the speed of the steps increased. The person was now running. Why? That didn't make any sense to me.

The first shape visible in the distance was, of course, the blonde hair. Eventually all of Jonouchi came into view and I saw him running toward the spot that I was currently stationed at—my Oak Hole. What was…

He reached the entrance, I standing there, looking at him incredulously and him panting and staring at me like I had nine heads.

"Kaiba?"

"Jonouchi?"

Then, in perfect unison, "What are you doing here?"

Jonouchi looked irritated and angry. Like he couldn't deal with me right now, he wouldn't stand for it. His face had only slight traces of bruises where I had hit him. I couldn't make out any other bruises in the rain.

"You first, Kaiba!"

I sighed. What to tell him? "I don't have to explain myself to you, mutt." I snarled. It was goddamn raining, and I wasn't ready to face Jonouchi just yet. I needed time to prepare my strategy for reparation.

"Oh yes you do! This is my place, Rich Boy!" There was not a hint of niceness in his voice when he said this. He rarely got this angry.

"What do you mean, 'your place'? It is a public park, Jonouchi." And mine.

His brown eyes flashed angrily, even in the rain, which I noticed was gently picking up ferocity. "I was here first!" he shouted, like a child that missed his turn on the swings.

I sighed. Perhaps he was…why would I want to fight with him right now, anyway? It would only make my problem worse.

"Get yer ass outta here, Kaiba!"

I wanted to tell him to relax. But I didn't know how he would take that. And he had no right to speak to me that way.

"A little surly tonight, aren't we, Jonouchi?" These insults felt so stupid because we had to shout over the sound of the rain.

"Shuddup! This is my place! Get the hell out!" He moved toward me like he was going to physically throw me out of here. He came at me with his hands ready to grab me. Instead, I caught said hands and latched onto them, keeping him in check.

His snarling face was so near to mine. And he was dripping wet. I was a little thrown by the realization that he might actually want to hurt me. But it would only be justice. I had punched him unfairly earlier that week, what could he do but return the favor?

"Jonouchi. Let's not fight," I said.

"Backin' down, Kaiba Boy?"

"Iie!" I said, out of habit, really. I'd never back down. But…this time, I had to. I did not want to fight with Jonouchi right now. "It's not like that. It's for your own good, I—.."

He broke free with one hand and threw a punch. I dodged, my own hand swinging in automatic response and connecting with his jaw square on.

We both stopped. The rain fell harder. Jonouchi was doubled over in pain.

Perfect job, Seto. You've managed to break the kid's jaw.

I stood there for a moment listening to his colorful swearing. Then I went over and put both hands on his shoulders. "You alright?" I asked.

He squirmed out of my hands. "Fine. Just fine." Anger, covered humiliation ringing clear through his voice.

The rain had almost stopped now. Just in time for the both of us to be soaked down to our skin.

"Is it broken?" I asked. Damn reflexes.

"I don't think so…" He stood straight up, wet hair flinging back as he did so. He was massaging the area of connection and cracking it from side to side.

Angry and frustrate that this had not gone at all like I planned; I crossed my arms and turned away from him. "Told you." Oh well. At least he had relaxed a little bit now, regardless of how I got there, I had eventually subdued him.

To my surprise he began chuckling. I turned back around, confused.

"You really got me, there, Kaiba." He thought this was…funny?

I blinked. "I warned you."

This just made him switch to full laughter. "Yeah, but what are ya', like, this karate expert or somethin'?"

Shockingly enough, I found myself struggling to keep down a smile at this statement. Smile? Me? Trying to? What…

Finally I decided to go with it. What the hell, I was going to die fairly soon anyway. "You bet your ass."

He laughed heartily. The rain had turned to a light mist now. But we were still drenched. Nevertheless, Jonouchi went over and sat in front of an oak tree, seeming not to be bothered by the mist or the fact that he was exposing his throat to a potential enemy.

He looked so calm sitting there, and his clothes were sticking to him. I watched as he relaxed fully into the bark of the tree, feeling a strange sensation creep over me that I hadn't felt in a long time, so long that I didn't even remember what it was called. It was just the tiniest hint of emotion.

"But seriously, are ya'?" He kept his eyes closed.

What to tell him? "Iie…not really."

He shrugged. "Whatever."

I didn't know if I should leave or not. I didn't want to leave, go home to that hell of its own. And it didn't seem right to leave Jonouchi all alone over here. So I sat down beside him.

"What are ya' doin' here, anyway?"

Even though he couldn't see it with closed eyes, I shrugged. "I don't really know. I was going for a walk when I stopped here. I guess I fell asleep. That was at four and I don't remember anything until you came."

Whoa…why was I telling him all this? He didn't care at all. And that was my secret, the sleeping part. I was not supposed to let anyone know, least of all Jonouchi. Why was my mouth running amok all of a sudden?

"Yeah, this place is real nice like that. I like goin' here when I'm messed up and need to relax."

Interesting. What would mess him up? "Is that why you're here now?" I was watching him as he remained oblivious to the world, (eyes closed), and talked to me.

"Yeah." He was acting so casual, around me, as well. I found it…weird. But I didn't dislike it. In fact, dare I say that it was kind of natural?

We were silent for a few more moments. I studied him. One arm rested on a bent left knee, the other leg and arm went straight out. His clothes were wet and sticking to him like mine, (not leaving much to the imagination to be honest). The emotion within me grew stronger. What was this feeling? It felt…

"I'm damn tired." His voice startled me out of my concentration.

I didn't say anything in return, I was too embarrassed. For I just realized what I had been staring at all that time. Why was I even looking there? Good thing his eyes were closed, he couldn't see my blush.

He stretched agilely. I tried not to look but of course failed miserably. Damn he was…

I knew this feeling all of a sudden. My blush deepened.

I shook my head, trying to clear it of those thoughts. How could I even feel that anymore with what Toshokama was doing to me? I had thought it was impossible, but…apparently not.

"Kaiba?"

I grunted in response, trying to act normal and not at all nervous.

"What's the one thing you want most in the world?"

That was an easy enough question. I wanted my company back. Though it was not like I would come out and tell that to Jonouchi. That was personal information. If at all possible, I would keep at least one secret from him.

"I don't know," I said simply.

He opened his eyes and turned to look at me. I hoped my blush had subsided a little. "Yes you do, Kaib'. Everyone knows the thing they want the most. I won't tell nobody…it's ok if you say it."

So I looked away and decided I would give him half my answer. "I just want to live, I guess."

He looked surprised but not shocked. I wondered how many people he had asked this to. "But…you are livin', right?"

I shrugged once more. "I can't really call what I do living. It's just existing, not living."

He stared at me for a moment. Then he said, "That's a good wish, you know?"

I nodded. "What about you? What do you want most?" I don't know why I cared. Maybe I was just being polite and asking this question to keep a conversation. But something felt more than that…

He sighed and looked at the tree. One of his skinny, rough hands ran gently over the bark. "I want to survive."

I blinked. "Survive what?"

"Life." He leaned back against the tree after this was said.

I pondered this response for a while, sitting there with him. What did he mean? His life must have been hell enough not to think he would be able to survive it. But what would help him? Didn't he have those irritating friends to bond with, like, 24/7? Maybe that wasn't enough. Maybe they were just there, just existing for him, not fulfilling his survival needs.

My cell phone rang in the middle of this thinking, startling us both. Jonouchi managed to laugh it off, but I was worried as soon as I checked the caller ID: Ichigata-san.

What bad news would I get now?

I answered it apprehensively. "Moshi moshi?"

The nervous voice of my Vice President answered me without hesitation. "Kaiba-sama, where are you?"

"Why do you want to know?"

"There is a…rather…well, there's a man here to see you."

"Is there? What's his name?"

I heard shouts in the background. They were enough to make me stand straight up and forget about Jonouchi being there at all. This was in my office there were shouts. What the hell as going on?

"I…can't…exactly tell you that on the phone, sir. Could you just…come by the office?" More shouts. "Immediately?"

"Of course. I'll be there in one second." I hung up promptly.

Gathering myself in frantic cautiousness, I turned to Jonouchi.

"What was that about?" he asked.

I shook my head swiftly. "I have to go. Don't tell anyone that you found me here…ok?"

He nodded, but seemed a little disappointed. "I won't if you won't tell about what I said."

"Deal. Sayonara." And with that, I fled the park and ran all the way to my office.

Not a thought in my mind was on anything but the office. Who had arrived? What was going on? Why was I not there in the first place? I should have been. This is exactly why I was such an irresponsible boss, I was never doing the right thing. That wasn't true…

My mind was running faster than my feet. I think it reached the office before I did.

Which is a good thing. Because my heart would have just given out if it had seen who exactly was in my office without any warning form my brain.

A/N: Ugh…cliffhanger. So sorry! OMG, I said I would never, but here I am, tricking all you guys with it, I'm so sorry! Oh well. I can promise that the next chapter won't take too long…well, it might. I don't know. School is a many wretched thing! I'm actually procrastinating my homework to write this to you…is that not backwards?

Well, thanks to everyone who read this, I hope you enjoyed it, sorry if there was any OOC-ness with Kaiba, and I know the _Sin City_ thing was kind of unexpected, please forgive me. I had to put that in there because it's like one of the best movies ever, and it totally applies here. So yeah. There you go, that's why I did it.

To fallen-angel-of-repression, I have not forgotten about you! I love your story, you're right, the chapters after 12 had a lot more action in them, very sad action, but still wonderfully written. I'll get that review out soon enough! I just have to keep up with everything, you know? Grr…I'm so sorry to make you wait like this. Forgive me!

Also, to any who care, I've written a one-shot on the side of this, (something that has absolutely nothing to do with this story), and it's a SetoxRyou and a suicide fic, so if any of you are interested, I beg of you to read it! It's really weird, of course, because it is written by me, but I think a lot of you will like it. So, if you wan to, check it out, if not, I'm out.

Thanks everyone, sorry if it was boring, too, by the way…please review! Peace out.


	5. Dead

Before I get into all the usual nonsense and ramblings of pre-chapter notes, I just have to say that I think you guys are so totally awesome, it's not even funny. I mean, I only have four chapters of this story, (well, okay, five if you include this one, heh), and I have, as of this moment, 72 reviews. That's crazy! That alone would be miraculous, but wait there's more! Not one flame. I repeat: Not one flame.

(knocks on wood)

There, now that I said it, it'll probably all disappear like it should…and I'll be all alone again, but I just had to comment on it while it was still here. (curses self at use of "it" like 50,000,000 times in those last two sentences)

So for those of you still here that weren't whisked away by the impressionable forces of the…unknown…(strangely put into semi-rest by the knocking of wood, weird), I hope you enjoy this chapter. It was difficult, but I've managed to deem it acceptable for your eyes. Thanks!

**_Warning:_** Adult themes, everyone. Yaoi, male on male, mentions of bad things like prostitution and rape, All Kids Out of the Pool.

Disclaimer: I don't own YGO.

**Chapter Five: Dead**

I have often wondered, (years later still), how it is possible for one's heart to remain beating even when it is currently nestling somewhere in the sole of your foot. For you see, that is what happened to me upon seeing the yellow spikes of hair and desperate, watery purple eyes in front of me on the night of The Oak Hole, (as I have come to call it in my mind), as I stepped into my office.

Next to him, Kuguro, (my head bodyguard), and half my staff of executives stood around him, smothering him, yelling at him at the top of their lungs—they were practically pushing the boy to tears where he stood, yelling at him like that. (Those were the shouts I had heard over the phone, probably.) Ichigata pattered around nervously trying to get everyone to calm down, I understood his hysteria, this was not a pleasant sight.

My heart settled in my feet, warming them over, but freezing the rest of my body from the sheer relief over the sight. I was fully prepared to see Toshokama, (or to be honest, the worst part of my imagination had actually conjured up a sights of Katsumoto), standing there smoking a cigar and waving around pictures of me in the willing positions I assumed for him during our visits. Then everyone would know. It would be in the newspaper and…my body had practically given itself a heart attack just with these thoughts—seeing my rival there had just sent it into climax. Thank god this was the denouement, the relaxation, the time I had to recuperate.

I closed my eyes. _Relax, Seto Kaiba. The world hasn't ended just yet. _

I swallowed mucus. It stuck in my throat.

So I coughed, cleared it. All at once the commotion stopped. Everyone in my office turned and looked at me, every mouth still suspended in silent speech.

"What is going on here?" I asked, using my most controlled voice, the quietest whisper in a ringing cloud of stinking breath.

Again, everyone tried to talk at once. I closed my eyes, again, and held up a hand. Running a company can be so much like babysitting five-year-olds.

Silence again.

I turned to the formerly harassed individual at the center of their death-ring. I motioned for them to move so I could get a good look at him.

I had been right, tears were near the dropping point in his eyes, his skin was red with embarrassment and something I couldn't identify, and he was soaked. Apparently he had been out in the rain earlier as well.

One hefty sigh. What the hell did he want? Now that I was finished praising the skies in relief, I was left with the annoyance of having to face this new problem.

"What do you want, Yugi?"

His eyes searched my face for some sort of compassion. I have to admit that those business execs, although they have the group mental capacity of a slab of rotten meat, can be pretty menacing when they want to be. Something like a small inkling of sympathy for him itched in the bottom of my stomach, like a pebble caught in your shoe or a grain of sand in your eye. But I didn't let it show.

"I…really need your help…with something…"

The voice of Motou Yugi. So feminine, so childish, so imploring of you, so irritating, so guilt-inducing…I could tell upon meeting him for the first time, (or even by the first note in his voice), that this boy would have made a great orphan, the first to be adopted. Or better yet a street kid; by the second day hustling spare change from sympathetic tourists he would have enough money to buy his own mansion.

"Oh well, Yugi. I don't have the time right now. Make an appointment next time, hai?" I had been disturbed from my time with Jonouchi for this?

Wait a minute…why did that bother me?

Oh, I know. I probably still felt guilty about punching him once, (iie, it was twice now), and I had missed my chance at a proper apology. I had already justified to myself the fact that Jonouchi needed an apology, he just wanted to survive after all.

Survive…I reserved that puzzlement in a mind-file for further study when I was alone.

"It's…im…it's really…important…" Yugi took a step toward me to show how important. Was he desperate or something?

"And?"

Yugi's face picked up urgency and then—suddenly it fell in pure sadness. Black sadness. Seriously, that kind of depression was a little dark for Yugi, almost frightening for a spectator such as myself.

"Onegai, Kaiba. Please." This look on Yugi's face…it was indeed desperate. I frowned.

"…Well, what is it?" He couldn't make me comply with just one look after all. "What could be so important that you had to run to my building at 10:45 in the middle of a Saturday night?"

His face turned downcast. I could be sure that I heard some sniffling. OK, something was definitely wrong. I mean…not that I should care, this didn't affect me in the slightest—this was my rival, my one enemy, perhaps the reason that people had stopped buying from me, the cause of my prostitution to Toshokama, the one factor in my life that needed immediate extermination—and yet I couldn't help but feel the pain emanating off of him. Why did that bother me…this didn't make any sense.

But what the hell. It was too late in the night for me to be questioning myself and what I felt.

"Everyone get out. Right now." Of course, I was talking to the businessmen polluting the air and making the situation ever-worse.

No one moved. I made direct eye contact with all of them, forcing them all into submission. "Did you think that I was kidding when I said that? Get out, all of you."

One by one, they shuffled embarrassedly out of my office. I stared at them all penetratingly as they passed by me, shooting them with pure hatred, injecting shame directly into their systems, making them remember every single sin they ever committed. (Part of my gift as a businessman, you see.)

Ichigata stared at me from his sitting position on the couch next to me desk, (it wasn't so much as sitting as it was collapsing, though), clearly perplexed. "Good work, Kaiba-sama," he sighed out.

I nodded and turned back to Yugi, who hadn't moved. "Dōmō, Ichigata. You may go as well, now." With every look of tiredness he nodded and left for his adjoining office. It was all so pathetic.

One day, Ichigata. We're probably both going to die of exhaustion over this whole mess, anyway. Just keeping walking the line down to the precipice. And then you are free to jump, if you want. End it all quickly.

Yugi and I were left alone.

I swallowed my hatred for him. The little grain of sand in my eye had turned to an entire beach after hearing the whimpers from his struggling tears. I traversed the distance between us. Standing above him, very near to his small, fragile figure, I hesitantly put my hands on his shoulders. Just small pressure, not really an embrace.

Like Ichigata and I, Yugi and I were probably both going to die from pain, anyway. I didn't know what his pain was, but I knew my own. Sometimes this was all I wanted, comfort. Why not give it to Yugi?

Suddenly I found myself thinking of Jonouchi. What would he say about all this? He definitely would have wanted to be here, right now.

Better yet, what would Yugi's answer be to the near-impossible question Jonouchi had asked me earlier? What would he want?

Also, what would Jonouchi do if I comforted him? What would he say? Would he push me away like a vile creature not worth his time? Would he hug me back, like Yugi was doing now? I imagined Jonouchi hugging me, instead of Yugi.

Something deep within me stirred.

I gasped involuntarily.

What the hell was that?

Before I could think about it anymore, Yugi decided to make his presence re-known and speak up.

From the folds of my trench coat, where Yugi's head was pressed firmly against my chest, where his hands were fisting my shirt, came a voice weak with free-flowing tears and over-bearing emotion, "He's dead…"

I looked down at the tips of the yellow spikes in my face. Yugi had already been wet from the rain earlier, so had I, but now we were both drenched in his tears, instead of the rain. I felt the newly formed spot of wetness in my shirt where he was crying.

But I kept my hands where they were. I summoned from my childhood the voice I had used to console Mokuba and asked in a shushed, calm tone, "Whose dead, Yugi?"

The strain of the head against my chest and the fists grasping my shirt increased. So did the force of the sobs. But no answer.

I didn't pressure him into answering right away. Instead I moved my hands to his back where I rubbed little circles of reassurance. "Yugi…" I prodded. This could be dangerous, I suddenly realized. Someone was dead for God's sake.

The muffled cry, "My grandpa!" He had shouted it, I knew. It just came out slightly muffled from the way his mouth was pressed against the cloth from my shirt.

Electricity of the coldest kind snaked through my veins. Yugi's grandfather…I knew him, didn't I? Hai, of course I did. He was the man with the Blue Eyes White Dragon card, wasn't he? Hai…I had given him a heart attack stealing that thing from him, hadn't I? Hai…and then I had ripped the thing in two, was that not correct? I knew this man. He was a kindhearted soul, it was true…he had died?

"Your grandfather is dead, Yugi?"

Strangling sobs. "Hai…"

Alright, then…what to do? I removed one hand from Yugi's back and ran it through my hair. A thousand thoughts circled through my mind. I needed to focus on just one, and forget my shock, the emotions lingering from thoughts of Jonouchi, and forget the shock that all this was happening so quickly—and to me, of all people. Why not to one of Yugi's cling-ons? Why had he come to me?

That wasn't important right now. I needed to find out if this man was really dead and where the hell he was, all the while keeping Yugi from severe depression.

"Where is the body, Yugi?" It was costing me a lot of self-control to keep that same Mokuba-stop-crying voice when asking him these questions.

More sobs. I wondered if Yugi could even hear me. Then he said through his tears, "At home…"

Good, he could hear me. "Is that where he died?"

"Hai…"

"He's still there now, right?"

"…Hai…"

"Alright. You need to take me to him, Yugi."

He sniffed a little. "Now?" And then he raised his face to meet my eyes. Red, blood-shot eyes mixed with the purple of his irises, face like a pale smudge, runny and watery, red marks staining his cheeks from the force of the hands wiping away his tears, nose running clear liquid all over his chin, mouth twitching, lines of saliva in the corners from the shouting and the sobbing. This was the Motou Yugi that met my vision. My heart wrenched slightly in his direction.

To answer his question, I nodded, while also offering a small smile. It didn't last, though. In fact, I'll be damned if Yugi even saw it, that's how quick I gave it to him. But at least I had given it at all.

Yugi detached himself from my waist, (which was all his little head came up to, after all), and went to recollect himself a little as I reached for my cell-phone. We were certainly not going to walk to his game shop, (I didn't even know it's precise location first of all, second of all Yugi was way too emotional for that sort of thing, and third, no one really needed to see him like this, anyway).

"Moshi moshi?" rang the tired, woken from sleep voice of Nakamura from the other end.

"Konbanwa, Nakamura. It's Kaiba. I need a ride somewhere, it is urgent. Where are you?"

"Uh…at home, sir." Just like the body of the senior Motou, supposedly. I shook that thought from my mind.

"Well, come to Kaiba Corp., immediately. I know it's very late, I apologize, but it's urgent, like I said."

"I understand. I'll be there right away, Kaiba-sama."

"Dōmō." I hung up.

Yugi stood in the corner practically punching his eyes he wanted the tears to stop. Now they would be even redder than before. I shook my head. This was crazy. Why was I helping him, again, this cry-baby? I don't know. But, as I said, it was too late in the night to be questioning myself.

I put a hand on his shoulder, and he looked up, eyes still red, but there was no more snot or saliva dribbling down his chin. I gestured for us to go down to the first floor and what for Nakamura there. He nodded.

So, we stood in the lobby of Kaiba Corp. waiting for a black limousine to pull up. Yugi seemed to be wishing that the result of what we would find at his house would be different, I could tell by the look in his eyes. Who would have done anything different? I was able to gauge just by seeing them together once or twice that Yugi cared about him like someone would care about a parent.

I sighed. What the hell did I know about this situation? The only person I had ever had to comfort when someone close to them died had been Mokuba and myself. I was easy; I just needed to tell myself to move on. And it wasn't like either of my parents actually cared about their gay son anyway, so that was settled rather easily. And Mokuba was young, I just told him that our parents had gotten called away on some sort of business and would be back later. Eventually the kid figured out that they were never coming back. But it wasn't until he was eleven, (about two years ago), that I had actually had to explain to him how they had died, which was the hardest part of it all, I guess. Although at that point Mokuba was at peace realizing that he would never get to know them, so there wasn't all that much drama.

But Yugi was different…he was, (I suppose), fourteen years old and he loved his grandfather. This would be all new to me. How was I supposed to fare here? Why was this all my burden?

Nakamura arrived rather swiftly, just on time. I had to hand it to him, he was a hell of a chauffer. It was his life's calling. And he was really loyal, as well. If only I had the money to raise his pay…

He didn't ask questions when he saw I was with my arch nemesis. In fact, he even gave both of us a greeting by name, "Konbanwa, Kaiba-sama, Motou-san. Where are we headed tonight?"

"Kame Game Shop, you know where that is, correct?" I answered. Yugi's eyes were glued to the floor.

"Hai."

"And hurry, Nakamura. This is very important."

"I will, sir."

Once again, to the merit of Nakamura, he got us there in 3 minutes flat, and the game shop was all the way on the other side of town. I wondered how long it had taken Yugi to run all the way to my building, probably a long time. The boy was so puny, he could not run that fast, I guessed. How torturous for him to be limited by his own failing stature, when his mind was running frantically for his destination…but that is a story that should only be told by him.

I had not bothered to ask Yugi how his grandfather had died. I should have. Then I might have been ready for the scene that met me when I arrived.

"Watashi no kami…" (My God) Nakamura said as we pulled up. I silenced him for Yugi's sake, but agreed internally.

The windows to the place were all broken in, the glass door was now only frame and it hung ajar with the shattered glass pieces littered all over the floor. The lights were on still, so you could see through it to the inside. The rows of duel monsters merchandise were broken into and thrown everywhere. Nothing was left sacred, it seemed.

I turned to Yugi after taking in this horrific mockery of the former sanctuary that was Kame Game Shop. "A robbery?" I asked.

He nodded. Tears welled in his eyes again, but he was already out of the car and running straight into the glass heaps before I could prepare him for what I knew was yet to come.

I ambled out of the car, trying to prepare myself for the scene. I followed Yugi into the shop, maneuvering around the broken glass and into the sell room. Right away I could sense death in the place. There was some aura of oddity about it, the place broken up and deformed in every way imaginable.

Yugi dashed into the living room through a door. I followed.

The room looked fine as soon as I stepped into it, but then I turned my head to Yugi's position and I saw the body.

Liquid nitrogen run through my veins instead of blood for those first few minutes I stood staring at the cadaver of Motou senior. His eyes were open and staring at the inside of his head, as his eyeballs had rolled up upon themselves, leaving the viewer with only a look at the whites and a hint of purple iris. His mouth hung open, broken jaw, teeth shown in disarray and bloodied from the impact of, I can guess from the bruises, a bat to the side of the face. The old wrinkled skin of the once very much alive man was split in some places showing congealed blood, where, I guess, he had been repeatedly punched more than twice, it seemed. And of course, the deadly blow to the head, an actual bloody indentation to the skull, leaving blood on the pale white carpet beneath him. Left arm broken and twisted unnaturally. Left leg broken and knee dislocated. A golf club lay next to his right arm, perfectly clean. I guess he had picked it up to try and ward off the robbers, but he had not gotten in even one shot.

And of course, the huddled figure of Yugi crouched next to his side, crying in loud-soft tones, "Grandpa…Grandpa…"

My throat was as dry as vacuum. I tried to conjure up some saliva to wet it a little bit, so that I wouldn't choke, but none came to my aid. I swallowed air, then, which helped a little.

I grasped my chin and massaged it, trying to throw away the image of the corpse. All to no avail.

_Alright,_ I thought, trying to get my mind back form the watery depths of shock. _What needs to be done?_

I pulled out my cell phone with cold hands. Then I laughed a little. Who to call? An ambulance? Or the mortuary? There was no hope.

In the end, I decided that 911 would be appropriate. I told them that I was reporting a robbery that had happened all of twenty maybe thirty minutes ago with one man dead in the process. To this day I still find it weird how such an observation had not startled the calm voice on the receiving end.

When I was assured that someone was on their way, I went over to Yugi's side, knelt down beside both him and the corpse. I averted my sight away from the dead body and concentrated on the shaking, live body of my rival.

He looked worse than he had earlier. Every muscle in his face was contorted into some form of internal anguish. And he was shaking violently, uncontrollably, giving the sobs he uttered actual life force. Yugi, ever the willing host for his emotions. I shook my head at that thought, fighting down the disgust that crept up my throat. This was not the time to hate Yugi.

In regular tones, "Yugi…" I began, placing my left palm on the middle of his back tentatively. Heat radiated off of him.

Then a thought occurred to me. "Are you hurt? Did they hurt you, as well?" I hadn't I asked this before? Where had my head been? Stupid.

Yugi didn't answer. He didn't even move. I moved on. Later, at the hospital, I could have him checked out for injuries.

"Yugi…" I applied more pressure to the part of his back in my palm.

It seemed that my comfort was only making him cry harder. Maybe he just needed to get these tears out of his system? But hadn't he already cried enough before, in my office? I didn't know. I sighed. This was not at all my area of expertise.

"Yugi…" Third time. Sirens in the distance. I looked up from this scene towards their direction. Through a shattered window I could see the red and blue flashing lights that meant help was arriving.

Yeah right. Help. What could they do besides give this profoundly dead man a death certificate? Yugi was not their problem. He was no one's problem, now.

I sighed again and turned back to Yugi. He's crying had not subsided at all.

"Yugi, do you hear those sirens?" He didn't move. I went on, anyway. "Those are medics. They're going to take your grandfather to the morgue, alright?" Best not to lie to him and say that they were going to take care of his already very much dead grandfather. "And you can't go with him." I added that last part because from the look in Yugi's face it seemed like he was about to suggest that.

He sobbed on. The sirens came closer. Eventually I heard them outside. I got up to meet them.

Nakamura was outside and leaning against the limousine when they pulled up. I think he figured out why we were here as soon as he saw the ambulance. It wasn't that hard. And he probably could hear everything that happened inside what with the windows being gone.

There were four or five of the medics in white. They came in swiftly with a black bag and portable bed all ready for him. They were so unashamed. They were so used to this, it didn't even matter anymore, the people that died in their business every day. You could tell by the way they moved; solemnly but indifferently.

Cold. That's all they were, really.

I nodded toward them all the same and showed them in to the site. It was only after they were inside and inspecting the body did Yugi move.

"Step aside, please, boy," they said and outlined his body in clean white chalk. A woman with a black braid trailing down her white uniform, (contrasting horribly), tried to pry him off the freezing hand of his grandfather, but he held on tight.

"Iie, this is wrong…it's not fair…Grandpa!"

"Step aside," she said, (no emotion at all), and pulled harder.

It was such an odd sight. Dead, shocking body lying like some sort of nuisance on the floor, and some sad, desperate fragile boy clasping his hand so hard you were worried it might fall off. Not to mention the people in white moving around silently and swiftly, making note of this and that, no flaw to speak of in their movements. And the woman. Damn that woman…

Was this what happened when you died?

I shook my head and stepped in. "Leave him," I said to the woman, pushing her to the side and sending her a freezing glare for her already freezing heart. Have a heart attack. Subzero temperatures in the aorta, blood freeze. See what happens when you die.

Yugi went to clasping the hand again. The medics were ignoring him and lifting the body anyway, straining from the lifeless weight, eventually plopping him down on the lift. Yugi moved with it, standing up and following the body.

I went over to him and grasped his shoulders. "Yugi, come away. They need to take him. I told you that you can't go with him."

"Iie, it's not fair…" He wouldn't let go. The medics were becoming impatient, they wanted to zip up the bag, now.

"Yugi…" I took his hand, the hand attached to his grandfather, and squeezed it, hoping that some warmth had returned to my own hands. Eventually, when I squeezed hard enough, Yugi was over powered and his hand slacked.

In one movement, they tucked the arm inside the black bag and zipped it up. One fluid movement. _Frrrrriip._ He was gone.

"Iie!" Yugi cried. I grasped him around the middle as he jumped and squired fighting me. He was very spry for one so weak. I had to old on tightly, almost to the point of hurting him. "Iie!"

I leaned my head down to his ear. In it, I said unintentionally rough, "Relax, Yugi. There's nothing you can do anymore. Calm down. It's not your fault."

As soon as I said that, Yugi stopped moving. He turned around and buried himself in my coat again. I tensed. I couldn't help it. I wasn't used to being hugged like this.

I could feel his face crushing my stomach and the wetness again. I sighed and put both my hands on his back. Is this what he wanted? I didn't know.

Oh how I hated being this helpless, not having all these answers of what to do. I sighed and closed my eyes.

Then they shot open. I sensed people still in the house, even though the medics had driven off with only the word of what morgue he was to be taken to.

I saw three people, one man in an American suit with blonde hair and green eyes and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. He looked fake, and obviously foreign.

When he spoke, it was in broken Japanese, and with a heavy American accent, even worse than Jonouchi's. "Kahnichwa…my condolences on yer loss…horrible, I know. Would you…to make fun'ral reservations, my pahlah?"

I stared at him, he was offering me the flowers and trying to explain how nice the place was. I interrupted him to say, "Go the hell away." He sighed and dropped a card at my feet before turning away.

The other two people were Japanese and spoke correctly at least, that was a relief. They walked around the spot where Yugi's grandfather had died, examining the brown and red blood stains, writing down things. Detectives.

Eventually the came over to Yugi and I. They were a little warmer than the others had been.

"We know this is probably a bad time…" one of them began. "But could we possibly ask you both a few questions regarding the robbery and murder?" (At the word murder Yugi flinched and hugged me tighter.)

The two men looked worn, tired, but sharp. One looked like he was headed on 55, and the other look about in his early thirties. They had consoling but weathered looks on their faces.

I said to them, "Gomen. This is not a good time."

"It will only take a second," the younger one assured me.

I felt Yugi's trembling body in my hands. A maternal side of me, (back from my years of raising Mokuba), felt the need to take of care this boy. He shouldn't be here right now. He should be in a bed somewhere, sleeping off the initial grief, tears wiped away with a cool washcloth, with someone sitting by his side should he wake up screaming from a nightmare.

But this was Motou Yugi we were talking about…my rival, right? Then I banished that thought. It was apparent that we were putting off our feud for right now. Besides, who really gave a damn about a card game when real travesties happened? Like selling yourself for relatively small amounts of money. And loosing someone you love…

"Sir?"

I shock myself awake from these tangents. "Ask only me, leave the boy alone."

"Alright," they said and gestured for us to talk inside, in the kitchen, away from all the blood.

The first question they asked once we stood around Yugi's table was, "Are you related to the Motous?"

I smirked dryly. "Iie."

"Then…who are you and why are you here?"

How to explain? We'll, we're rivals, but…that wouldn't work. "We know each other from school. We're sort of friends." Kind of.

The younger one nodded and smiled. "Best friends?"

I am willing to bet that my arid face when I said "Not really" put him out a little. Oh well. He probably understood.

"Right. Well, anyway…how are you involved in this?"

"I'm not. I was out for a walk about an hour ago and I got a call that someone was in my office, requesting my presence—.."

"Your office?" The older one questioned, with a raised eyebrow.

I stared him in the face. Some old-timers don't know how I am. If they're not involved in the stock market and not fans of the game, why would they?

"I own a corporation. I'm its president and CEO."

"Really." He said this like he didn't believe me.

"Wait…" the younger one looked at me hard. "You're Kaiba Seto, aren't you?"

I nodded.

"Oh, I see. My kid loves all that duel monsters shit. Oh, sumimasen," I waved it off. The man continued, "He's a pretty big fan of yours, I think."

"Would you like an autograph?" Why not? Maybe the kid would buy some more duel monsters shit, save me a night at Toshokama's. I cringed at the memory.

"Oh, I couldn't ask…"

"It's ok. Give me a piece of paper." He ripped out a page in his notepad and handed it to me. I got my own pen from the depth of my coat and signed my name extravagantly while the older man said they needed to get back on topic, and could I please finish my story.

I finished, "When I arrived in my office I found this boy there crying and telling me that his grandfather was dead. So, I said that we had to take of care it and was driven here by my chauffer—perhaps you saw him in front. When I saw the body I called 911 and reported a robbery as well as a death. You can piece together the rest, I imagine."

"So, you hadn't been here at all before Yugi went to your office, right?"

"Iie."

"Ok. Anything else you know involving the robbery?"

"Iie, that's it."

"Ok. Can we…talk to the kid, then?"

I looked down at Yugi who was just sniffling quietly without any hysterics. "If he wants to."

Yugi shook his head wordlessly.

"Another time," I told them. They were satisfied. So, the two of them thanked me for my time, the younger one thanked me for the autograph and they left.

It was kind of difficult to walk with Yugi latched onto me like a clasp, but I managed. For his sake. Nakamura didn't say anything as he drove us to my mansion. He understood.

I didn't even need to suggest to Yugi my plans for him to stay with me for a while. We both knew this was the only way. I wasn't about to drop him off at some orphanage—(where I assumed he should be placed, what kind of boy lives with his grandfather and still has living, available parents?)—and I didn't want to bring up the subject of his other friends. There was a reason he had come to me first, after all.

So, the only sound in the limousine was Yugi's breathing and the occasional sniff. I could tell by the look in his face that he was in shock, for now. Numb and dry of tears. Of course I could expect them to come back later, but, that was later.

I felt like something was waiting for me at home…something…was it a meeting or something?

Iie, it was Mokuba. Mokuba! My poor little brother. I had forgotten all about him, and we hadn't by any means left on good terms. He was probably worried sick…I looked at my watch. 11:23. Definitely.

I pulled out my cell phone, ready to face hell and guilt from him. All my fault, of course.

Mokuba answered on the firs ring. "Seto?" All the hope of someone hanging off a cliff that sees a mountain climber heading their way. (Of course we had caller ID so he knew who it was, anyway, but I don't know what he thought).

"Hai, Mokuba. It's me."

"Seto…" All the relief of someone saved by a passing mountain climber with a hook and rope. "Seto…I was so worried…"

"I know Mokuba, gomen nasai. I've been so busy…"

"You could have at least called! I was about to call the police on you!" Oh don't, Mokuba. They have a touch enough night already what with a robbery and murder on their hands.

"Gomen. It's been very hectic."

"Are you safe?"

"Extremely."

"Where are you?"

"I'm on my way home, Nakamura is driving me. But you should know that we're going to have a guest for a little while."

"Really?" He seemed confused. "Who?"

"Motou Yugi."

Silence. Then, "Nani?"

"I'll explain when I get home, Mokuba. For now, I want you to relax. I will not tell you to go to bed because I know you won't, anyway, so, I'll be home very soon. Alright?"

"…Ok, Seto. I was really worried. And I feel bad about before…"

"It wasn't your fault, Mokuba it's mine." Which is true. Why did he always have to take the blame for everything? My poor otōto…

"But what do you have against Kats—.."

I couldn't hear that name again. I interrupted with, "Another time, Mokuba. I'll be home promptly. Sayonara."

Frustrated but still in the throes of relief, Mokuba said, "Sayonara, then, Seto."

We hung up.

Like anticipated, the drive home took us less than ten minutes. I thanked Nakamura exclusively when I got out of the car, he said it was nothing, that this was his job, but I knew it really wasn't his job. None of this was, not after I stopped paying him. So did he, I think.

Yugi seemed afraid to let go of me as we walked up to my house. I had to kind of shift his weight onto my hip and walk like my left leg has a gimp in it. But that wasn't so horrible.

When we got into the house, I slipped off my shoes, and moved Yugi's weight in front of me. Then I sort of walked him like someone would walk a two-year-old just taking his first steps.

Mokuba was waiting for us on top of the stairs. I saw the beginnings of over a thousand sentences in his eyes, and then, as soon as he looked at Yugi's face, I watched them all fall to the floor and break into over a thousand pieces. My little brother was stunned speechless.

When his gaze shifted to me, I saw the confusion and hurt there. "Later, Mokuba," I said. He understood and ran ahead of us up to the guest rooms, ready to prepare Yugi's guest room.

By the time we reached that flight, Yugi had started to whimper a little bit. "Shh…" I said quickly and took him into the room. Mokuba had down a good job, the bed was turned down and everything.

Yugi got into bed and curled the sheets around him. I didn't worry about his shoes just yet. Let him sleep.

"Sleep, Yugi," said, and tucked the sheets around him like Mokuba used to love. "It'll be a little better in the morning."

He whimpered a little bit more, but eventually fell silent. I guessed he was asleep.

I wondered out of Yugi's new room and into Mokuba's. I had to explain some of this to him. But by the time I went in he was already asleep. Fell asleep in his clothes, too, waiting up for me, I guess. I sighed, removed his shoes, and set the sheets around him. I whispered a soft, "Oyasumi," and left to my own room.

The gloom of the dark blue walls met my vision. Home sweet home.

There was so much to do…but later. Hai…later…not now. Random thoughts ran through my mind…

The cold medics…ugly corpse of Yugi's grandfather…the boy I signed an autograph to, would he still want it if he knew I was a prostitute?

I thought of Jonouchi…he just wanted to survive…would he want Yugi to survive? Of course. What would he do when he found out about all this? I don't know…poor Jonouchi…he's so alone…in the park…in The Oak Hole.

Then an odd thought crossed my mind. I guess I'd have to take care of Yugi from now on. And Mokuba. I laughed a little.

How could I possibly take care of all these people when I couldn't even take care of myself?

A/N: Alright! I guess you noticed by now that there is a big change in Seto. Of course you do…but, think about it before you jump to conclusions about OOC-ness. Doesn't it make sense? He's not the same person he was before all the deals with Toshokama, is he?

But yeah. You're probably still going to hate me anyway, heh.

And I know this might seem, like, really off topic, but trust me it will all tie in soon enough. And if any of you think that I'm changing the pairing to a SetoxYugi, I'm sorry but you're wrong. The pairing is still SetoxJou, I just had to put this in here to add something to the plot. You'll see, I think…I think…heh.

I hope you liked it, even for its differences from all the other chapters! If you didn't, blame me. It's be my fault. Please review, I really want to know what you think of all this.

And to MercilessTantatalus, I really want to respond to your review, but you do not list your e-mail address in your bio page. Could you leave it in your next review, if you review, if you even care anymore, lol? Oh and if you even want a response, of course. I'd appreciate it, thanks, and thank you for reading it, if you still are!

Thanks to everyone, I love you guys so much…peace!


	6. Spiraling

Thanks for coming back, guys! Wow…I got so many reviews from that last update, (really a considerable amount, thank you so much guys, I love you always!)…I think it's all going to go straight to my head one day…(sigh). But where would I be without you all?

Oh…sorry it took my like a month to update…you see, I would have done so very much sooner, but I made a stupid mistake which included me assuming that a book report was extra credit when really it was our quarterly average, which resulted in my having to read and take endless notes on a 200 page book in the span of a single weekend. Yes. A little miscommunication between me and my English teacher. Yeess…I blame my stupidityT.T That's the real culprit here, is it not? Sorry, guys. (But the book was pretty good, if that's any help…)

Also, I know I said this in the last chapter but almost everyone said they were still scared, so I want to put all your fears aside and say again: This is not going to be a SetoxYugi. It's still a SetoxJou. I promise you all one thousand times over!

Now, about this chapter…I think you'll find it interesting. Very difficult to keep Seto In Character through-out all this… Enjoy!

**_Warning:_** This story contains content that is not suitable for children. It contains sexual references, rape references, homosexuality, mentions of death and some gore. Reader discretion is advised.

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh.

**Chapter Six: Spiraling**

In the throes of sleep I dreamt…it was the perfect night for a nightmare.

I'm in a bed. So cold…so cold…I can see my breath as I pant in and out, more violently with each one. My vision knifes through the frozen air for something of recognition.

I've been here before. But where am I? It's so dark…maroon walls, black ceiling. A portrait of a man hanging on one wall. I know this man…tall, robust, Japanese, with evil lurking just beneath those yellow eyes. Are they yellow? No…more like amber…this amber-eyed man in his fifties, black hair neatly cropped to his scalp on the sides and the top.

I've seen this man before…but who is he?

The door in front of my eyes. I can make out an outline of light all around it, framing it. There is light outside this room. But why can't I reach it?

A howl of nature manically enters the room through an open window, setting a new coat of goose-bumps and frost on my skin. The secret of the cold is explained to me. I should shut that window…why can't I?

I know why I'm here…why is it, again? I know, really I do. I just can't remember…if I only I could remember…oh, if I could just remember then I could get out of here…why? Why? Why am I here? Think…why are you here? I just want to remember.

I can't remember.

Tears form in the outlines of my eyes. I'm frightened. There is another type of cold in this room, the freeze gripping the inside of my chest cavity with strong, but dead, fingers. I'm so scared I'm dizzy. My panting begins to come out shaky. I can't breathe…and I can't remember.

A tear falls down my left cheek, leaving burn marks on frozen skin. If I could remember, if I could get up and close that window, if I could only…if only…

Another gust of wind. I gasp. It's so cold…why is it so cold?

I look down at myself and gasp again. I'm naked. And my wrists are chained to the…bed post. I look around frantically. This is a bedroom…and I lay here, on the bed. Trapped.

My tears stop. My fear takes a new turn, a different turn. It's no longer in my chest. It's everywhere.

I think I remember why I'm here…

Gozaburo said…he said…

Footsteps. Outside the door. I see a shadow stand in the way of the life-saving light encircling the door. A key jingles and then the doorknob turns. The man enters.

His face, (his whole front), is illuminated by the light behind him, which seeps in with him, a contradiction of normality. Light shadowing darkness?

He's a mystery to me. But I know him. I know him…he frightens me. I swallow air, and close my eyes. If only I could forget why I'm here.

His eyes glow in the darkness. Their color and shine the only blatant thing about him. I see them gaze at me, but not my face. His eyes stroll down my naked body, feasting on what he sees there as if I was his first, (or last, but I have a feeling I'm neither), meal. Suddenly I feel like a piece of meat sautéed on a dinner plate. Fresh, tender meat, served cold. I want to cry out, "Please! Don't eat me!" but I know I'm already dead to him. This man ready to consume in my flesh. How do I mean that? Even I don't know.

He slips off his robe; I suddenly realize he was wearing one in the first place. I try to plead with him, but instead squirm on the bed and barely manage to cough out a whimper, or a breathy sigh.

"Shh…" he says, like a father consoling his son. "Don't cry, Seto."

But how can I not? I know I'm not, but I am. Inside. Inside me I'm screaming as loud as I possibly can. I'm screaming louder than my lungs can handle. I'm choking on my own screams.

Pain…cold…pain…"Don't cry,"…pain…so cold…pain…"Don't cry, it'll all be over soon,"…pain! This is painful…and…

His eyes capture mine, freeze me. The eyes of a wolf, I see, golden and glowing, burning out my purity…he has teeth inside a wolf's snout and I can't, he's going to—

"IIE!"

I threw myself out of the bed and landed with a resounding thump on the floor of my bedroom.

Not yet registering the pain, I sit up violently and hurl my vision in every corner of the room before I'm satisfied that I'm not still in that place. No…this is my bedroom, not his. I'm safe.

It was only a dream…just a dream. Just a dream.

I sighed and closed my eyes, having to physically cast images of the nightmare out from under my eyelids. Go away, just leave me alone.

But in the process of casting them away, I realized that I had forgotten what my dream had been about in the five seconds it took me to wake up. What exactly had I dreamt? Was it of my childhood? Was it of Toshokama? Was it a premonition?

I remembered a wolf.

A wolf? Is that correct? I've never had any fear of wolves before. I've always considered wolves to be one of nature's finest creatures, sleek and beautiful, harbingers of a full-mooned night. But deadly. Oh yes deadly. One of the things I loved most about wolves.

It couldn't have been about wolves. I must be mistaken.

I told myself that it doesn't matter what the damn dream was about. Just move on, who cares? I'm not afraid of anything that comes in the night. I've been through worse.

"Relax, damn it…" I said through a hoarse voice and weak nerves. "Just get over it and move on." My eyes opened and I got off the floor, registering the pain in my back. "Never fall on a damaged rectum" were my thoughts.

I stripped off my sweat-soaked clothes and started to take a shower. The hot, inviting water offering a brief feeling of cleanliness for my ever-impure body. A moment of solace washed through me with the water droplets.

Not for long, though. Soon enough, the images—or really the experience—of the dream came back to me in the course of careless mistake. I was so preoccupied with comfort that I had evidently forgotten to shut the bathroom window. The feeling of the cold morning air against my skin got me going again.

Freezing…goose bumps…pain…

I closed the window with a slam as soon as these thoughts returned, as if trying to close the entry on my fears. The glass panel shook in its frame. Damn it. I was just lucky that it didn't fall off completely and shatter on my foot. Although, the pain might have been to my advantage…

The shower aided a little bit in that it was a reminder of the day ahead. There more important, stressing matters than a bad dream. It was Sunday. I had school homework to do that I had put off from yesterday because of Mokuba's movie, (not that it mattered anyway, but it was best not to draw attention to myself), Kaiba Corp. was in disarray, and, oh yes, my visit with Toshokama was just two nights away. How lovely.

With a sigh, I headed to my bedroom door, not ready for this, not thinking I would ever be ready to fix this life of—

Wait. My mind and my hand on the doorknob halted at once. There was something else…something that needed to be taken care of immediately…

Right. Yugi. How the hell could I have forgotten? (Probably repression.)

Sucking in a deep gust of air, I prepared myself for this new memory. A brief notion of a break crossed my mind…where were mine anymore?

_What do you expect? You just agreed to harbor a grieving fourteen-year-old. Not to mention the fact that you're also the CEO of a failing company. Do you think that any one of your kind receives breaks? And since when have you started whining? Aren't you supposed to be infallible? Aren't you supposed to be Kaiba Gozaburo's son? Aren't you the one who wanted this company more than anything else? You were willing to kill your stepfather for—_

Alright, alright. I won't ask for anymore breaks.

Some encouragement. Just what the doctor ordered, five minutes if incapacitating your weak emotions with internal reprimands. Helps.

I shook these thoughts out of my direct memory and left my bedroom. It was probably too early for either of my house's occupants to be up, (I checked my watch, it was only 6:37), but I still went in to see if Mokuba and Yugi were stirring.

Mokuba was still completely dead to the world, the back of his head revealing voluminous but entangled black hair as a sarcastic testimonial to the all those expecting consciousness from him. Even in my dark mood, I could never pass up at least a smirk for his innocence when sleeping. But I soon left to move on to Yugi's room which I knew to be more dramatic.

From outside his door I could hear him.

Inside, I found the boy still sleeping, but like he was fighting off a murder standing right next to him. He tossed from side to side, exclaiming random things at practically the top of his lungs.

"Get out! Iie! Leave him! Stop! You're hurting him! Grandpa! Why? What are you…stop! Iie, iie! It's not…you're…Grandpa!" Eventually, tears leaked from the cracks of his eyelids as he suffered.

I couldn't just leave him like that, so I went over and knelt beside him. I rested my hands on his shoulders, forcing him to be still, and began calling his name. "Yugi. Yugi. Yugi." Not shouting it, but not whispering it either.

His cries began to soften. The tears stopped flowing and he gradually opened his eyes.

Damn. That was not at all what I was trying to do. He wasn't supposed to wake-up.

"…Kaiba?" he asked. A question forming on his face. "What are you doing here?" He seemed genuinely confused.

I raised an eyebrow at him, leaving my hands where they were for the moment. "You're in my house, remember?"

He looked around. I saw his face fall and then his eyes close. "Right. I remember now." The skin around his eyes scrunched and he swallowed hard. I guessed there were more tears to come.

"Go back to sleep, Yugi," I prompted, swiftly wiping away the tears on his face and chin, (for a reason I couldn't explain other than just wanting them to stop plaguing his features).

But he refused. "Iie…I don't want to have anymore nightmares." That makes two of us, I thought. At least I could try to stop his nightmares…my own were a mystery even to me.

"You need rest." I was trying to be persuasive.

Still, he shook his head. I watched him open his eyes and move into a sitting position. Unconsciously, I folded my arms across my chest.

We sat in silence for a few moments. "Oh," he looked at me apologetically through the sogginess of grief. "I still have my shoes on. Gomen." He removed them and set them on the side of the room. Dear Yugi…he could still be that meek even in times of hardship. Or maybe he was trying to be polite or something of that nature…either way, I didn't want to think about the mud stains from those wretched shoes that were probably settling into my carpets downstairs. My maids would have a field day today.

I wished I knew what to say to Yugi. Obviously he had been left traumatized after seeing his grandfather brutally beaten to death by a gang of robbers, (not to mention the mutilated corpse left after the fact). How should I handle this? Send him to therapy? Iie, too soon. Tell him that his grandfather had gone to a better place, presumably heaven? I smirked at that one. My earlier contemplations on the matter had left me faithless in the idea of an afterlife. How could I preach about something I didn't even believe existed? That was laughable.

I remembered that I had questions from the previous night left unanswered. Today would be the better day to mention them. And what of Yugi's friends? They would have to be notified of this. Perhaps they could take him off my hands if they so pleased. A weird sense of relief came with this thought. I felt guilty about it, but it was probably for the best anyway if Yugi was with someone that could be less awkward around him.

I saved the questions in my mind for later. We definitely needed to have a discussion but I would not bombard the boy with accusations as soon as he awoke, (sumimasen, as soon as I awoke him).

"Would you like some breakfast?" I asked him.

He turned to me with blood-shot eyes and a worn out face. Damn me to hell for waking him up earlier than he should have.

"I'm not really that hungry. Dōmō." He added the thanks as if it were mandatory.

I pushed. "Something to drink, then?" Conversations were always better if you had something edible to talk over. Or at least…I assumed.

He shrugged, looking away. That was good enough for me. Maybe Yugi saw what I was up to, maybe he didn't. I couldn't tell by his expression. All I saw was pain.

"Come on, then." I stood up and guided him out of his room, into the kitchen. We didn't speak until the metallic glow of my silverware stared back at me and I realized I had no idea what he wanted.

"Coffee?" I asked. Maybe? This is what my colleagues usually desired during a meeting. That or water with a lemon wedge, (goddamn they could be picky sometimes), though this was probably not Yugi's first choice today.

His purple-red eyes stared back at me in surprise. "Not supposed to drink coffee…it stunts your growth."

Cursed urban legend. I shook my head, irritated. "Who told you that?"

"My grandpa."

I admit that was a stupid thing to ask. Self-hate flowed through me for a split second. Why don't you take that urban legend and shove it up your sore, penetrated ass, Seto? Could you be any more awkward?

After the second passed, I told myself to forget it. Just move on, (possibly to more mistakes, but at least one was learned).

"Juice, then?" I asked.

He nodded weakly. "Ok."

I moved to the refrigerator and took out a full container of orange juice. I stared at some left-over food from a few nights ago. Had I eaten that flounder? Why don't I remember it? Weird…I really don't remember even tasting it…

"Kaiba?"

I whipped around to Yugi. "Nani?"

He shrank a little but still said, "You okay?"

"Mochiron yo. Naze?" (Of course. Why?) I felt like I had just spaced out, but I didn't really have a recollection of what I had been thinking. What was it again?

"You…dazed for a couple of minutes there." The boy's eyebrows knitted together lightly to show some confusion, but these were only light emotions compared to what really bothered him.

"Did I? Gomen." Whatever. Lately I had begun to do this more and more. It was like my brain couldn't handle all the horror that was constantly poured into it day in and day out. Maybe if I just ignored it, it would go away…

The orange-yellow liquid slopped out of the cardboard container and splashed into the juice glass. I made sure that the glass was filled almost, but not quite, all the way to the top. This would bide more time for conversation if Yugi had more juice to sip.

"Here." After lightly setting down the glass in front of him, I moved across the table to sit opposite him.

I watched curiously as he drank. He didn't actually drink it, nor did he sip it, it was more like a small gulp and then he was done.

"Finish it," I told him. If this glass of orange juice was to be the only nutrition he was to receive this morning, then let it be at least whole. Besides, I needed to talk to him.

"I will…" he offered, eyes darting down to the side of the table.

I let a few minutes pass. Then, with a deep breath, I began. "Yugi…we need to discuss some things about last night." Great. Now it sounded like we slept together or something. Inwardly, I sighed.

His gaze shifted hesitantly to mine.

"I don't know why you came to me first before anyone else for help. Would you like to call someone else to stay with for a while?" It was interesting, the amount of guilt I felt while asking him this. I tried not to make my voice that cold, but then…why did Yugi look so heart-broken?

"You're…kicking me out, then?" He stared at his juice glass and I watched his knuckles turn white as he gripped it in an effort to fight the tears welling up behind his eyes.

Guilt turned to shock in a matter of seconds. "Of course not. That's not what I meant at all. I just thought that perhaps you have relatives or other friends to stay with legally. Or people you're more close to." That still sounded the same, damn it. Another hefty internal sigh. Being light with people was not part of the training that accompanied a CEO, now, was it?

Iie, Kaiba. That comes with being a human.

I shook away these thoughts. Anyway, Yugi was speaking.

"I don't have any other family…" A tear made its way out from behind those defenseless eyes. This wasn't good. By law, he was supposed to be sent straight to the orphanages. I couldn't let that happen…they were all such horrible places, I knew.

"Friends?" This was such an obvious question. I felt bad saying it, but it needed to be said.

He looked at me. Sadly, my rival told me, "I could never ask them to take care of me…they probably wouldn't, anyway."

This was…new. And however unlikely. "Why not?"

"We…well, Anzu is on vacation with her…family…in China for a month. I think she's visiting relatives…And, well, Honda and I haven't been all that close after…well, after he found out I was gay…and…Jou…I just wouldn't."

I couldn't help but pick up things in that speech. The way Yugi cringed at the word "family" when talking about that girl. The way he constantly paused between his phrases, as if some things were too hard to say or too complicated to explain. Alas, I knew that Mazaki girl had some Chinese blood in her; I could sense it even though she had a Japanese name, though that really isn't important, is it? And Yugi was gay. Why did that not surprise me? His friend Hiroto was a homophobe, not all that shocking, either. You had to guess that one of them would be the straight man out, and it was definitely going to be that kid with the obnoxiously pointy hair.

But what of Jonouchi? "Why wouldn't you?" I asked. My insides fluttered with anticipation. Perhaps this would explain why he just wanted to survive. Survive what? Maybe Yugi could possibly tell me…

Nervousness beamed at me through his face. "Well…he…he just has a bad home life, I guess."

"You guess?" He needed to be sure.

A nod. I decided not to push it. It would be too apparent; Yugi could sense that I was interested, the last thing I wanted. So I would have to be satisfied with just that much for now. Sufficient, but still…

"Alright. Do you at least want to call them and fill them in about what's going on?"

He took another gulp of an almost forgotten glass of orange juice. "I don't think they'd like me staying here, but…I should call them, you're right…"

I got up to get the portable phone. Maybe I was moving too fast, (was it really imperative that Yugi call his friends right this instant?), however I felt that everything involving this should be taken care of as soon as possible. I had work to do, after all.

By the time I got back I found Yugi with his head pressed against the table top and his palms with spread fingers next to it. I wasn't sure how to go about getting his attention, so I just tapped him once on the shoulder very lightly, and left my hand there.

One could say almost reluctantly, he sat up and took the phone from my hands. As he dialed, I left the room to give him some privacy. I also needed to find something for Yugi to wear, his clothes from yesterday were only his school uniform, (why he wore that thing at all hours of the day, is a mystery to me), and I was sure that that was certainly dirty.

I snuck back into Mokuba's room, he was still sleeping. I resisted the urge to smirk again. His were probably the only clothes I could think of that would fit Yugi, the boy was so incredibly puny. So I knelt down beside Mokuba's dresser and began rummaging through it in search of some nice clothes, things that it wouldn't be too much of an oddity to see Yugi in. Very difficult…Mokuba wore weird shirts, with bands and duel monsters on the front. Heh, I thought, maybe Yugi would like this one with the Dark Magician…I turned around to look at the back. A picture of a Blue Eyes White Dragon murdering the Dark Magician frightened me. I quickly returned it among the messy, childish piles of wrinkled clothes that Mokuba kept and closed the drawer. That was enough of that adventure.

Wasn't there something in here for Yugi? Anything at all? I checked his sweater drawer. An old navy, baggy sweatshirt with the English words "Yankees" and their baseball symbol printed on the front. Nothing on the back. I had forgotten where Mokuba bought/received this sweatshirt, but it didn't matter. This would definitely fit Yugi, maybe even be a little big for him. It was fine.

Pants were a bigger problem. Mokuba had a miniscule waist, something that was so small it was amazing. Yugi was the same way, (almost I guess), but he had shorter legs than my little brother. The pants might be a little big for him. Oh well. If Yugi wanted to stay in this house, he would deal.

So I picked out a pair of blue jeans and went back downstairs, with a final glance at Mokuba's lightly breathing form. I figured Yugi would be done with his phone calls, it had taken me quite a while to fish through the heaps of clothing Mokuba owned.

Of course, I was wrong, and by the time I reached Yugi he was still on the phone. I prepared myself to leave and give him back his privacy, but something caught my attention.

I couldn't comprehend what he was saying, he was speaking very low and…there was something else…

I moved closer, (behind the kitchen door, so he wouldn't notice my presence, already feeling like an eavesdropper and a spy), trying to understand his words despite myself. It didn't take me long to realize he was speaking a different language.

One of the fortunate things about living with my stepfather was that he had taught my many useful things despite all the brutality he dished at me with his cold, demanding hands, (and knives, and chains…). Overall, I had learned a total of seven languages during his teachings. One of them being the language that Yugi now spoke in his conversation.

The English was easy to detect. The way the sounds started and stopped, harsh and oddly placed, like a sentence in English was a rabbit hole, where individual words were held in hidden tunnels, squirreled away surreptitiously. I never liked English. Too western for me. I preferred the Asian languages, but that was just me.

As for Yugi, I couldn't tell if he was the aggressor or the defender in the conversation, but the person on the other end was definitely an enemy.

Yugi said, "I know, but…yes, well, I see that, but…I'm sorry! Just, why can't you…Hey!"

The other end reverberated with shouts, I could hear it from my vantage point, this person was surely the aggressor.

I heard a sniffle. Yugi was not ready for this kind of punishment, (but for what?), perhaps it was time for me to step in and tell this person to fuck off. Perhaps it was…

I waited, anyway. Yugi went on, "I'm sorry…you can't possibly expect me…why? No! Jou isn't…Don't, please don't, I—.."

And then just like that it was over.

My heart was beating rapidly. He had mentioned Jou's name. Did that mean that this bastard on the other line had something to do with the mutt? My hands were beginning to sweat at the very thought, that's how pathetic I was. Ashamed, I tried to stop this before realizing that Yugi was in the kitchen head on the table, crying. Sobbing, more like.

Of course he hadn't been ready. I should have stopped it before it was too late. Stupid.

I stepped inside quietly and put the clothes on the table, next to a glass of orange juice that had two sips taken out of it. Gently, I placed a hand on Yugi's back.

"What happened, Yugi?" I asked, after deciding that I should keep my tongue in Japanese so he wouldn't feel betrayed.

He shuddered. Where his hands were spread over his face, he looked up, eyes burning red. "He's so mean…"

Eye on alert. "Who is, Yugi?" I used my gentle, consoling voice.

"That…bastard!" Oh I didn't know that Yugi even used words like that. "He's terrible…"

"Who?" I was trying for this. It could be crucial in the Jonouchi Files.

Yugi looked up at me, fully. He even sat straight in his chair. The sobs lessened with one more sniffle.

"Never mind." That was what this boy told me. He was pushing me away from this topic. Really? I have to admit to being a little insulted, but more than that, frustrated. I didn't have to let Yugi leave in my house after all.

But then again…he had no where else to go…

Whatever. I frowned. Let Yugi keep his damn secrets I would find out my own way.

"Alright. I will." I took my hand off Yugi's back and shoved the clothes in his arms. "Now, I've stolen these clothes from Mokuba's drawer. You can go inside and put them on."

He held the clothes in his hands, looking at them repulsively as if I had just given him a dead, skinned animal or something. "I…like these better," he said, gesturing towards his current attire and setting the others back down on the table.

I picked them up and put them back in his arms. Supposedly, his fear was loosing something that still connected him with his grandfather, the clothes, I'm sure there was something else. But this notion had to be eliminated if he wanted to heal. "I won't allow you to stay in those clothes, they're filthy. You can keep them, I won't throw them out, but at least take them off."

"I don't care if they're dirty." But he still held onto them.

I nodded and looked down at him. "I know. Put these on."

One more small sniffle, (he was doing that a lot), and he left the kitchen solemnly. He didn't ask me where the bathroom was, so I assumed he was headed towards his room again.

Alone, I looked at the table where Yugi had sat. Full glass of orange juice not even touched. Warm impression on the table where his head was pressed. Some snot stains in the same place. A sweaty handprint.

I took the glass of orange juice and dumped its contents into the sink, oh well. Then I used a wet sponge to clean the table where Yugi sat.

All this Yugi business aside…I had work to do today, after all. What needed to b done? Well, there were the contracts from Gatoichi-san who needed them "No later than Sunday evening" the damn bastard. And then there was the reworking of the shares which could possible give me more of an income…oh god I didn't even want to check those records to see how far I had slipped since Saturday morning.

In thought, I traveled into the living room. Maybe I could tell Gatoichi to go screw his mother up her—

"Fucking hell!" I screamed.

Yugi looked up from his current state of near nakedness as he stood in the living room changing into Mokuba's clothes.

He just stared at me, jaw dropped.

I was gaping at the boy. Then I realized I was staring and I looked away, in completely the opposite direction.

"Yugi…what are you doing?"

"Uh…I don't know…wow…I didn't even think…"

I exhaled through my teeth. "Obviously not. When I instructed you to change I meant in your room. If you want—.."

"I didn't even think about it…I just went in here…it was…"

I heard a plunk as if the boy had suddenly sat down, I felt some pending tears. Reluctantly, I willed my eyes to turn back toward the boy. Indeed he was sitting on the floor, yellow/black/red hair bobbing with his tears.

A cringe. Why did I have to be so mean to him? Of course the boy wasn't thinking, he was in a state of shock, why would he be able to think? Why had I yelled? Damn me to hell.

I moved over to him, outstretched a hand openly and said softly, "It's alright. Just get up, ne?"

Yugi remained sitting but he grasped me around the waist and pressed the side of his face against me, like he had the previous night. He didn't say anything, but he did not need to, I knew what he felt.

His first breakdown. I had a feeling it would be one of many, not a good premonition.

_Might as well get used to it, Kaiba. Steady yourself. You signed up for this and now you have to stick with it._

I patted his back helplessly. What did he expect me to do? I felt like I should be doing something…but what did I expect myself to do?

"It's alright. Just get back up, Yugi." I said this to him hoping that he knew what I meant.

After a moment or two, he pulled himself up with the words, "Hai. G-gomen…"

His eyes refused to meet mine; there was a tell-tale blush spreading through-out his face.

I shook my head. Silly things… "Why don't you continue to dress, Yugi? I'll be in the kitchen, ok?"

He nodded back at me.

Go back there, Kaiba. Get your damaged ass back in that kitchen and hide your face. Which is what I did.

It wasn't until later, much later, after Mokuba had gotten up and asked for an explanation on why Yugi was here, after that whole long, confusing conversation, and even after I had begun to work on my Kaiba Corp. material, (decidedly still at home, after a joint decision by Mokuba and myself), that I learned Yugi had invited his friends over today when he called them.

"Nani?" I asked, rage bordering my voice.

Yugi sat, eyes staring at me nervously, on my couch and said, "Honda and Otogi are coming over today, I think. Maybe Jou."

"Are they, now?" How dare he bring his measly friends over here for the day? I said he could call them, not invite them to stay here! Where did he get the authority from? I had called the morgue and set up the funeral dates in the earlier morning and everything. He had time to see his friends at the funeral didn't he? Of course he did!

Yugi nodded.

Before I could even retort this situation, Mokuba, (who was also on the couch, reading a book for his school assignment), piped up with, "I think that's a great idea!" He shot me a look that said, "Come on, he's in pain remember?"

I looked away. Of course I remember. But why did my remembering always imply something that I didn't want to do?

I agreed anyway. Yugi was at least owed this. Maybe his eyes would heal. They looked so broken…shattered, empty. Recalling the image of his grandfather from the previous night, those literally dead, rolled back, cold eyes held more life than Yugi's did now. Those purple eyes showed so much emotion…what was Yugi feeling internally that allowed those eyes to exist? Or not exist, as it was?

I know that boy Honda from everywhere, (every single contest I had hosted, he was just as annoying as they rest of them, sad to say—only he was the homophobe that had hurt Yugi the most I think), but the other one, Otogi, I knew him only as Ryuuji from math class. So it was a little strange witnessing him walk around my house, when I didn't even know the guy. He was a bastard anyway I wagered. The way he always had a smart ass answer for the teacher because he never did his homework. The way he expected all the girls, (and even some of the boys), to drool all over him. I did not find him appealing. Rather, I wanted to rip off his face that mask of pseudo-beauty and leave his bare bones open to the world. On my worst days anyway.

They arrived together, (I question this still), at about 4:07 in the afternoon. I heard the doorbell ring and immediately I knew. We never got visitors. This had to be those two.

There was nothing that I wanted more than to lock my door and send them away from my house. Goddamn it, this was my home, why did they need to penetrate my sanctuaries? Why?

From my vantage point at the front door, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I so did not need this today. I needed to work…I needed to prepare myself for Toshokama's…I needed to have conferences with the few people willing to save my company…I needed to live. I did not need the two people waiting outside my door. I did not need Yugi. I did not need Jonouchi—"maybe"—plaguing my thoughts with his, "I just want to survive" crap. Why was everyone suddenly against me? Why did the world have to crash around my ears just when I was at the top of my game, just when I was the best in the world, and then the first share dropped and then a second and then a third and now I was a prostitute housing an orphaned, traumatized boy, waiting for my arms to gather the will to open the door and invite them to please come ruin my day…

_DIIIng-DOOng_

They rang the bell again.

"Seto what are you waiting for? Let them in!" Mokuba flew down from the upper flight of stairs and ran past me to open the door. He had taken quite well to the whole situation, I found, (considering that he had liked Yugi's grandfather and needed to get over the death as well as Yugi and that he had to accept the fact that my rival would be staying in the house for an undefined period of time). I was grateful for this, but a little wary of it as well. How long would it last?

When the door opened, revealing the numb faces of the pair I had dreaded, the first thing I noticed was there expressions. They looked, in a word, stunned to be standing in front of me at this moment.

The pointy haired boy had a face that looked gray and ghost-like. Worn out. Washed out. Like someone that had been woken up too soon from sleep. Rude awakening, probably, to actually know someone that had died. I'm sure he considered Sugoroku as part of his family, as well. Hurts, doesn't it? Wait for a few more minutes, pointy-haired boy. You haven't seen Yugi.

The other, Ryuuji, looked like himself, he was probably hiding any feelings that would give away his true thoughts. I could say I admired him for this, but I won't, because it did not change my dislike for him. He was still branded as a smart ass, whether he contained some of my qualities or not. The one difference about him was his mouth. It was almost always perked up slightly into some kind of smirk, some kind of feathery laugh. Now, his lips made a single straight line. Thin and motionless. Like gravity had finally kicked in on those hated lips.

"Konnichiwa," Mokuba said, hopefully trying to breathe some life in them. "You guys can come in."

Just ignore my presence entirely Mokuba. Why am I even standing here? It is obvious I have no control over the transactions in my own home, my little brother just yanked the opportunity directly out of my hands. Why am I even living here? It's too damn expensive for the sad income I'm getting right now anyway…

"Dōmō, Mokuba…" Ryuuji said, Honda following him wordlessly. "So…where is he?" There was no needed explanation of who "he" was. Who else, after all?

"Um…he's upstairs I think. Right, Seto?"

Alas. My presence is noticed. And their eyes are on me. I shrugged. "I believe so."

Mokuba turned back to them affirming my statement, but they kept their eyes on me. Every word silently spoken. "Why Kaiba? What the hell are you up to?" I stared back at them, offering fake ignorance to their questions. If they were here to question me, let them leave. I had no time for this, anyway.

My little brother tramped up the stairs again. The two of them followed, soundlessly, and I brought up the rear. I wasn't sure if I was going to stay with Yugi, he might want me there, I wasn't sure. So I had decided to enter with them and then see what happened from there.

I felt the loss of time physically pull at my chest. I needed to get out of here…

As expected, Yugi was sitting on the couch where I'd left him, (the television turned off, why would he want images to delude his mind from the current grief? I don't know. He asked for it off, so there it was). When the four of us entered, he turned in our direction.

I could literally feel the two guests flinch upon seeing Yugi's face. His lifeless eyes, his unwilling posture. Just the general aura about him frightened them. My hopes that they might possibly be able to help him almost evaporated with this.

"H-hey, Yug'…" Honda said, his voice cracking a little, and the first word stuttering just a tad. I think I was the only one who noticed that.

"Hey, guys. Thanks for coming." Yugi said the words appreciatively, like he really meant it. I thought that was strange, seeing as how they had already betrayed him by being squeamish. But maybe I'm too cynical.

Mokuba broke some of the ice by going and sitting down next to Yugi, which lead the way for the two to take their places on opposite sides of him. I remained standing, my arms folded across my chest, waiting for instruction from Yugi.

"I'm sorry about what happened…" Ryuuji started. I couldn't have figured that out alone.

"Yeah…" Yugi said. He must have expected this to happen. Of course he did.

"We both are, Yug'…" Honda repeated Ryuuji.

"Yeah…" Yugi said.

Wow. Interesting conversation to ruin my day with. I tried my best not to outwardly show any signs of impatience. But they really were not the best at this consolation business. Hell, neither was I, but I wasn't this bad.

"I tried to get in touch with Anzu but I think my cell died," Ryuuji threw out.

"Oh." Yugi added this meaningless grunt.

"That sucks, Otogi," Honda said.

He nodded.

I was about to kill myself over this dryer than a desert conversation. In fact, I'm not even going to compliment it by calling it a conversation. It was more like a sentence completion exercise. Like the type they gave us in Language Enhancement class. How many sentences can you make with the word "unequivocally"? How many sentences can you make to avoid the subject of death?

Silence. No one had given me permission to leave…maybe I could walk out on my own? Iie, that would be cruel…but…yet…

Suddenly, after about six minutes of silence, Yugi blurted, "I'm scared, you guys."

"Me too," Ryuuji agreed.

"Yeah…" The pointy-haired kid…were those tears in his eyes? Well, straight boys always fell apart first. Experience has taught me.

Mokuba stared at the floor. I wondered what my little brother was feeling. We hadn't had a chance to talk over the fight we had had the other day, even though I said we would over the phone. Was he thinking that I was a liar? Did he want to get his old brother back? What exactly did he want, what with Yugi newly arrived in this house? I wish I knew. I wanted to talk to him about his feelings, perhaps console him…if I just had the time. After all, he knew my big secret. That I was failing.

"We'll get through it, though," said the arrogant, ebony-haired bisexual. And who would help him get through it? You? Or I?

Yugi leaned into him like he did with me earlier in the morning. He didn't cry, though. I guess there comes a point where your tears run out.

Honda turned to me. "So I guess you're the one that he wanted to stay with?"

"Ask him," I said. I wasn't going to tell him the truth.

"Yugi?"

The hurt boy just said, "I want to stay with Kaiba for a while."

"Why?" Honda asked. Well, I guess the same question was bouncing through my own mind.

"I just do. He helped me, you guys. A lot." I did. And it looked like my work was not done.

I saw anger flash through Honda. "How did he possibly help you? He'd sooner kill you!" Too tired to take offense at that.

Yugi turned on him. "He was with me when the medics took Grandpa's body away, Honda-kun. He…saw…the…body…" Finally, here came the tears.

"Alright, let's change the subject, you can stay with Kaiba if you want to, Yugi, ok?" Dōmō, Ryuuji. Maybe I'll leave you with your nose if I ever do eventually rip your face off. Maybe, now…

Then the most random, feared thing happened.

_DIIIng-DOOng_

My head whipped around in the direction of the door.

Jonouchi?

"Who the hell is that?" the pointy-haired kid questioned me.

"Probably Jou," Mokuba guessed.

I ran down the stairs and to the door. Upon opening it immediately I saw that yellow hair and that perpetual semi-lost expression, along with those sparkly golden-brown eyes, (they really did look golden in that light), and the raggedy outfit, always missing a few buttons, always with some stains on it from something that looked…greasy and fat-ridden.

Definitely Jonouchi.

"Kaiba?" He asked. I thought I heard something in his voice that sounded different from that old American accent…like…emotion? Something…out of place? I could not fit the pieces together in my mind. What did this mean?

I was not ready for this boy. I had to fight the urge to suddenly slam the door in his face. But how rude of me. And what to explain to Yugi? Emotions got in the way? Iie.

"Jonouchi," I replied. Trying to remain indifferent, like the entire meeting in the Oak Hole had never happened. Oh, why pretend? We both knew…

"I'm here…for Yugi, ya know." He had to specify. That hurt me somehow.

His face looked so tired. He reached behind himself to rub the back of his neck and his eyes darted to the side of my house to avoid mine. When was the last time he slept?

Then I saw something.

When his arm reached up, his sleeve fell down a little on his wrist. I saw the marks. Blackening swellings in thick, long patterns, almost as if—

"Do ya know where he is? He is stayin' here, right?"

His voice ripped me back to reality. "Hai…he is staying here. I'll…show you to him."

I turned around and went back to where they were sitting, (well Mokuba was now standing, but that was beside the point), knowing the Jou was following me.

I shook my head. Jonouchi was not going to become Jou in my mind. Not happening.

Upon seeing Jou—damn it, Jonouchi!—arrive, everyone seemed brighter. HE just had that effect on them.

"Jou!" Yugi cried and ran up to hug him.

"Nice of you to drop by, Jonouchi-kun," Ryuuji had the smirk back again. Damn his way of defying gravity.

Honda looked down right beside himself with glee. "You're here, Jou!"

Never forgetting the littlest member of the gathering, he even turned to Mokuba who responded with, "Hey, Katsuya."

He allowed that? He allowed my little brother to call him by his first name? I thought he hated that? Questions formed in my mind.

"How did you know to come, Jou?" Yugi asked, lifting his face from the boy's stomach. Had he even called him? That shocked me.

"I told the kid," Honda boasted. "I ran into him on my way over here and told him everything."

"Yep, I just had to stop by my place for a sec, but I tried not to be too long. I knew you'd all miss me." Was it that? Or is it because you hate going home? You can't even call where you live a home, can you, Jou? It's just your "place"? I contemplated this.

"I did," Yugi said, and pressed himself against the boy.

It was so strange. Jou looked so carefree when he was with them. His smile was on and dazzling, nice teeth, lots of confidence for them all. Where they had all flinched at the scariness of Yugi's eyes, Jou only smiled. A warm smile. Something I could never give him…

But when I was with him, there was so much sadness floating about him. Pain, even. Dare I say pain? I think there was. Pretender? Was that it? Jou was a mere actor and nothing else?

Who cares? Yugi is actually smiling at that joke he just made. A small smile, brief. But it was there. And he made a joke at all, out of all of this mess in the first place. I give him much credit just for doing that.

Very soon, the entire mood was just a mark under jovial. I couldn't stand it. There was never any of this happiness in my house. Never with Gozaburo, nor with me. How is it that Jou, being in the room for less than five minutes, breaks the shadow of despair that has lingered here for more than forty years (as long as my stepfather had it)?

I had to leave. Go anywhere else. Just get away from this laughter. I did not do very well when parties came to life. I liked them when they were dead—or just not there at all.

So I left and went into the next room over, which happened to be a small office. This was not usually where I worked, it was too small. I had my own study down the hall. This was a room I didn't use anymore. A place where I kept old company records, Duel Monsters handbooks that were out of date, old photo albums. There were so many books in this room, there was practically no room to sit down. It even smelled like a book, dusty and old, as it was, though.

At least it was quiet. I could recollect in this room. For some reason I was shaking. Why? That didn't make any sense…when I tried to draw up a reason in my mind, the only thing that came up was Jou's face.

Jonouchi's face. Not Jou's.

I held onto my hands to get them to stop. I walked around between the piles of books, I shook them out to get the circulation back into them. Eventually, the shaking became less noticeable.

Footsteps. What the hell was that? Had someone…noticed I was gone?

Suddenly the door opened, with only a small knock preceding it, sealing my doom.

I should have known it would be Jou. Why not? I needed more torture.

His face was normal, just a little questioning of me, curious. "Kaiba? What are ya doin' in here?"

I tried to make myself look indifferent. "I could be asking you the same question, Jou. Nouchi." I had to add that last part. I had forgotten it again.

"I…noticed you were gone so I just…" He didn't need to finish. His face said it all. Not so confident now, not so happy now. He entered the room, even without my asking and looked around. "Got 'nuff books, ya think?"

"Hai, I do." My heart was racing. Was it because of the other night? The conversation we had? Or was it the way the light shone just right into the office making Jou look purely golden, even his skin, along with his hair and eyes that glittered much the same way a precious jewel would. My stomach weakened. I felt myself become all too aware of his beauty.

Concentrate, Seto. He's still here, remember?

"What are these all for, anyway?" He grabbed one randomly and looked at the title, before I could even think about stopping him. His mood had changed into something more alive, like he had been in the room next to this one. "Psycho…Analy…tical…Assum…ptions…of…da…Corporate Mind?" He looked at me after struggling through that. Eye shone even more brightly with amusement. "Really?" he asked. Bored, he flipped it back into the pile.

After that initiation he looked away. Serious again. "Yugi's pretty beaten up, you know?"

I nodded solemnly. "I know."

"He might…not come back, you know?" It hurt him so much to say this.

"I know."

Suddenly he sighed and looked at me with eyes full of question, painful misunderstanding. "Why are ya' doin' this, Kaiba?"

I licked my lips, they were so dry they hurt. I had to tell him the truth…I just had to. "I don't know." It was said so softly.

We found ourselves caught in this room together, feeling the same emotion.

The pain of Yugi's hardship as well as our own unspoken feelings was bouncing between us. I could feel it if I closed my eyes. It would stop hurting for a moment. Then it would come back. Stop for a moment then return to me. We shifted the weight between us.

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

It felt so soothing…

Back and forth.

Back and forth.

I felt myself giving in. Before I even knew what was happening, I felt Jou's entire front pressed clear against mine. I gasped at the sensation. My eyes were still closed, so I opened them to look at him.

He looked just like Jou only so much more lovely, desirable…

I liked this. A lot. I liked his body flush on top of mine, his face mere centimeters away. This was…extravagant.

His lips met mine slowly, unexpectedly and it felt so natural. Nothing of the wrongness of…

Suddenly I felt the wrongness of it. This was Jonouchi. Jonouchi Katsuya. And for a moment there, I even thought of Toshokama. Hadn't he done this same thing with me our first time?

I couldn't.

"Iie," I whimpered and pushed him away from me.

The moment was broken. We were back in the musty old office room full of meaningless books. We were back in my house. We were back in the world where Yugi's grandfather was dead and Yugi left broken. We were back in the real world.

And we were both embarrassed.

"Whoa…that's…never happened before, really," Jou assured me.

I ran a hand through my hair. I tried to swallow but I had nothing in my mouth. I felt strange. Not scared or unclean, not relieved or better. Just different than I had before. I could sense that Jou felt the same way.

And that was enough to make him leave.

"I uh…I gotta go, ok? Yeah. I think I'm gonna go."

I nodded wordlessly. Nothing to say after that.

He left the room just after his decision. He didn't pause to apologize, (god I was glad he didn't), he didn't even wait for me to, he was just gone.

Like a coward I remained in the office for a long time. Hours that I didn't count. I sat in the middle of the floor thinking about things I couldn't explain. My feelings with Jou had just transcended anything platonic, but why? I felt so…strange. Too many emotions. Way too many for one day.

When I finally came out of my hovel, everyone had left.

It was dark in the house. I checked my watch. 9:46. I barely even cared that I had been in there for over five hours. What did it matter, after all?

Mokuba found me walking into my office. I needed to work. Too much time had been lost already.

"Seto? Where have you been?" His little face was so tired. Everyone was tired. I wasn't tired. I was awake, too estranged to be tired.

"I was in my old office, Mokuba. Thinking." I looked at him. For some reason he flinched when our gazes met.

"What were…you thinking about, Seto?" he asked, his voice cautious.

I thought. When I turned back to him all I had was, "I don't know." I really didn't.

Mokuba looked almost scared of me. "Well, Yugi's in bed…"

"You're tired, too, Mokuba. Sleep. Ok?" Why couldn't the words come out right?

He nodded, confused, but compliant. One more second of standing at the door to my study, and then Mokuba disappeared into the darkened hallways where the lights were not on.

"Oyasumi nasai," I said to no one.

I entered my study and opened my laptop. $23. That was it. 23 goddamn dollars. I couldn't even buy a CD.

I worked on into the night, loosing myself in the monotony of the task, forgetting to check the clock

To this day, I honestly do not know how long I worked. I do not even remember what I did. It seemed like years I sat there working, but they only passed in one second. I ate nothing, I didn't sleep, I did not stop for anything I can remember.

And by the time I looked up, it was Tuesday.

A/N: You guys have no idea how this chapter troubled me. Wow. Horrors. I've never had writer's block like I have with this one. I was actually even considering abandoning it forever, (the word **delete** popped into my mind more than once). I just lost the story for a little bit there.

But I have found it again and by the next chapter it will get better, I promise. There is more SetoxJou coming up, lots more, and if you thought that what happened between our two lovers in this chapter was random, just wait. It leads up to something extravagant. By the way, if you didn't understand what Seto was talking about when he said they were "shifting the weight", it's too metaphorical to explain…just consider that they were caught in a unique moment of raw sensuality, ok? Cool. Wow…it feels so good to have ended this chapter finally. It was really bothering me leaving it unfinished. I really thought I was never going to find it again...I just hope I don't loose it. (Hope with me, please! Lol)

To MercilessTantalus, I feel horrible telling you this, but Fanfiction actually blocks out e-mails in reviews. So if you want to give me your address, send me an e-mail, (it's in my bio page), and then I'll have yours, or send an anonymous review and list it, ok? I'm so sorry that your last review was deleted! Please forgive for you having to do all this, it's crazy I know, I'm sorry!

And to "AriEmeraldStar", I began reading your story, give me a break with it, I will attempt to read it, but no promises because I've been so busy of late. I'm just trying to keep up with all the stories I'm writing. I apologize! Please don't hate me, I'm trying my best.

Until next time, pray to whatever gods (if there are any gods) that I do not loose this story again! I hate when that happens, and I really want to end this the proper way! Thanks you guys, and review if you have the time!


	7. Down

If you're reading this, it means that you have gotten past the sad state of the last chapter and had enough will to bring your eyes to my story page, again. This time for Chapter 7. I award you a golden medal. For patience, for bravery, for just plain empathy and understanding. I love you guys so much! You are all too kind to me, even after the last chapter wasn't so great. I still have over 100 reviews, that is just amazing.

(bows at the feet of Fanfiction supervisors) Ok, I know that everyone else has seen it, but let me just rant about it: The update on our site! You guys can definitely be sure that I'll be using these awesome features a lot in the future. It will make it so much easier to communicate with all of you, and it still keeps everyone's privacy! I shall worship this feature for a long time coming. I've already built a shrine to it in my room—where is yours?

As another note, some people were asking me this and it's a really good question, what happened to the Yamis? Well, I've decided not to put them in here because of the story's content. I just didn't want to add any weird magical stuff in here, and I could not find a place for Yami in all of this, (and the others aren't even in this story, oddly enough), so there shall be none of that in here. Sorry if you were waiting for a debut appearance! I'm sorry, you guys. I just had to keep it according to my ability! (And Seto doesn't even believe in the Yamis so I didn't want to add anything that would challenge him even further…I didn't want to kill it all.)

So…here's the 7th chapter…like I promised, I think it will start to get going here, get into the real SetoxJou elements of the story, a central theme of it. I hope you enjoy it!

**_Warning:_** This story contains homosexualiy, and mentions of rape, violence, death, and other areas of discretion. This is a big one, you guys, but if you haven't noticed it by now…why are you still reading?

Disclaimer: I don't own YGO, not now not ever. And I also do not own "Black Hole Sun" by Soundgarden, but I absolutely LOVE this song! I would never steal from thine holy Soundgarden, either. Never ever. To prove my sincerity: (stabs self with disclaimer)

**Chapter Seven: Down**

The rug was rough beneath my naked front.

"Stop struggling," he whispered into my ear, his voice choppy with the exertion of physical activity. "This is a gift, you know."

I just kept my eyes closed and conjured an image of something else in my mind's eye. It was too much to be here, right now. But I did not even care, really. Let him rape me. Let him hurt me. Let him tell me that I was not good enough for his sex. Let him do all this. As long as he kept me alive through this strange chain we had. This chain of rescuing through submission and impurity to save my life, at the cost of myself.

I couldn't think. I just kept my eyes squeezed shut, numbed my nerves and tried to bar my ears. If I could silence all my sense at once, that's what I would have done. To be nowhere until it's over. Until he's finished with me, this time. That was my wish.

"I said stop that struggling. And move a little bit, for God's sake. Pretend you're enjoying this blessing I'm giving you."

I pretended I didn't hear him.

"Move!" He yelled that time, directly in my unbarred ears.

My eyes opened of their own accord. Do you think he would refuse to pay me if I d not move, now? Of course he would…he would have no reason to give me money…and then all of this would be for naught. All for nothing. Maybe if I did this for him now, he would finally give me back all the money he owed me…maybe…surely that was all I needed to keep my company afloat. Just that little bit of money. And then my nightmare would be over, finally.

"Oh, Toshokama…" I began. "You're amazing…" I didn't even care. Let him do all this. Until it's over, until it's over. Yet, I still felt the venom injected deep down in the core of my being. I felt sick. Very sick. I couldn't even move I was so sick.

I felt his enjoyment at my easy compliance. I do not believe I've ever been this willing before. There has to have been some kind of change in me…was there?

Lately, I felt so…strangely devoid. Like I wasn't even living anymore. I was just walking, laying, talking, standing, working, yelling, running…but none of it was living. No living. Nothing was alive anymore. Not in me, not in my house where Yugi trudged around the house with red eyes and wet palms, and Mokuba shrank away from me whenever I entered the room, afraid to be near his scary older brother. His changed older brother.

Floating in a deep hole…spiraling in a place of nothingness…even as he finished, got off of me.

"That was the least to be expected of you," he says. "This is supposed to be love, isn't it?"

Gomen, Toshokama, but it's not love if you force the other person to lie beneath you and then give them money for it afterwards. That's called prostitution. That's what we're doing. I am your whore. Haven't you realized this by now?

I found my clothes. They were the same ones I had been wearing for a few days now, since Sunday I think. I had worked for so long that day…so long. I hadn't even bothered to go to school. Who cared about it anymore? It couldn't help me and I found life to be of more importance. I remembered stopping in the morning, Tuesday, as it was, at 5:00 a.m. It was a good time to stop.

Tuesday, (that same day as I lied in Toshokama's office), was the wake for Yugi's grandfather. I remembered that. The perfume incense of the funeral parlor was still attached to my clothes, the scent had seeped directly into the fabric, it would never come out. A permanent reminder of what had happened. Yugi's second breakdown, refusing to leave the side of the coffin, (closed casket, for all that was sacred in life, if there was anything anymore), and shouting things that didn't make sense. "It should have been me!" or "Why didn't anyone stop them?" while he looked accusingly at all the faces present. That had hurt every single person there. I found not a single tearless eye in the entire room, (except for mine).

With shaking hands, I threw the shirt on my bare back and buttoned it sloppily. The wake. Jou wasn't there. Was he hurt? Was he at home? Was he…where was he?

Then a smirk came over my lips. Of course he didn't come to the wake, Seto. You probably scared the hell out of him when you forced him into that kiss on Sunday.

By this point I had distinctly convinced myself that I had forced Jou into it. Why would he ever want to kiss a whore—or better yet, because he did not know of my second private profession, why would he kiss his worst enemy? The single man that attempted destruction of his being upon every meeting. Me. Why would he kiss me unless I had forced him into it? And in all honesty, I didn't really remember much of that experience anyway. It was all slightly foggy for some weird reason. I guess because it had happened so fast.

All I remembered perfectly were Jou's lips, how soft they were, pressed against mine in a slight, slow touch. The way our bodies were pressed together so justly, and how I found it so hard breathe when we were that close. And his soft tongue, nipping at my mouth's entrance…

Without warning I felt a sharp, bruising sting on my back and the rough carpet stuck in my mouth.

"What the hell are you doing, Kaiba-san? Get up and let me give you your money. That is why you're here, isn't it?"

My head was spinning. He had pushed me down on the floor after I had gotten lost inside a day dream. Every part of me felt bruised, especially where he slapped my back. But it was just punishment, I have to say. I shouldn't have been thinking about Jou and his delicious…well…body. I should be trying my best to loose the memory of that day, what we had done. It would never happen again, I would make sure of that. I would not become the very thing that I hated the most, nor did I deserve the privilege of being with someone like Jou. He should have someone better than me. He deserved more than a sick, dead whore.

Toshokama breathed heavily over me. I stood up tentatively and finished dressing. As always when the night was over, my old business partner sat behind his desk smoking a cigar.

"The money?" I asked, briefcase open before him.

Some smoke puffed out of his mouth and he reached under his desk, pulling out what looked like a brown, cracked leather suitcase. I felt curiosity, mixed with a little bit of wariness and a dash of sour intuition, peak out from under a hiding place inside myself.

He spread the suitcase open before me, its leather making a low crackling sound in feeble protest. What met my eyes made my throat squeeze shut on itself, ceasing to allow me breath. All at once, my knees found it unbearable to hold me up any longer. They collapsed and hit his desk with heavy force, sending deep-rooted pain up every nerve in my body. Luckily, my hands caught me before I fell to the floor.

Toshokama chuckled behind his cigar. "It is a lot isn't it?"

The suitcase contained rows and rows of fresh, brand new cash, lying before me like they had been waiting there for me. I could smell them, they were so new. And there was just so much of it…fives wrapped around tens wrapped around twenties wrapped around fifties wrapped around hundreds…

"This would certainly be enough to save your company wouldn't it, Kaiba-san?"

My knees came back to me, although the bones creaked harshly. I stood up straight. "What do you want from me?" I asked. Never let your weakness show. Not even after you have been torn below self degradation.

More smoke billowed out of him, in such a way that it looked like he was smoking from every pore in his face. This had become a normal sight for me. "Well, it does depend on the matter of what you'd be willing to do, now doesn't it, Kaiba-san?"

"Does it?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. He knew what I meant.

A smile appeared on his fat face. He nodded approvingly. "I guess not. However. This does come at a price, regardless of all that, and I believe that was your original question, right?"

"Get to the point, Toshokama." I was becoming impatient.

His smile faded quickly. "Next month. I believe it is the first Friday of November. I will be having some colleagues invited here, to my house. To discuss business, of course. But you see…I lack a means of entertainment for them all." He ended there.

I closed my eyes, swallowed by a wave of disappointment. "That's where I am needed."

"I should say it is, Kaiba-san. Oh, believe me, they'd all be very interested in having you attend. As a matter of fact, I've already confirmed your presence."

My eyelids shot open. "You WHAT?"

"Alright, let's try again. I said you would be coming, Kaiba."

"I thought we were under the agreement that this was strictly between you and me." It was all I could do to keep my voice and jolting emotions under control.

A hearty laugh escaped him. It seemed as though every single part of his body was contorted in the laughter. I waited for about four agonizing minutes for him to stop. "Oh…Kaiba-san. I had heard it said you had no humor in you. But see? You have once again defied everyone's expectations of you! That was excellent, Kaiba, truly."

My face was a blank slate without a trace of amusement. "I was being serious."

Toshokama reached under his desk again and pulled out an American whisky bottle. He took a hefty swig of it and then said, "Oh, were you? Well, then I would have to disagree with you. Nowhere did we agree that this—arrangement, shall we say?—was only an interaction between the two of us. You'd do well not to assume anything like that in the future."

He was right, unfortunately. I had assumed this. But of course he hadn't agreed to anything like that. Hadn't that man who shared Jou's name called me and already said that nothing of the sort had taken place? I wouldn't be surprised if that Jonouchi Yoshiho himself showed up to this gala that Toshokama was planning.

_Make no assumptions, Seto. Just try and get through this._

Alright. "So if I accept this invitation, you will give me all the cash in that suitcase?"

A faint smile came back on his features for a moment. "To the last one dollar bill, Kaiba-san."

Hai. So this left me with a decision to make. That was a lot of money, it really could help the company, that I was sure of. But…would I submit myself to doing what was required of me? A night full of men exactly like Toshokama? Doing exactly what he did to me? Could I do that?

"If I refuse this invitation…will you arrange for another night between just the two of us?"

He smirked. "You can forget about that."

Well. I guess that made my decision for me. If I didn't go now everything would be over, for good.

An eerie thought probed my mind. Isn't that what I want? For this entire nightmare to finally end? Freedom? Isn't that what I'd been hoping for deep down in my core ever since the beginning?

It was.

Iie! I thought. This could not happen. Of course I wanted this all to end, but it never could. Not if I wanted to keep my company. And I had already decided that I wanted that more than dignity. It was too late to be questioning myself and my values. I headed into this whole situation in the first place not to quit but to get the money I needed. That was all this was about. I had gotten confused along the way. My emotions had become an obstacle. I couldn't let that happen again.

An image of my stepfather entered my mind. "Kill your emotions, my son. Only then can you hope to succeed. Anything else will only result in failure."

_You know this._

I did. From within me, I drew a deep breath and said, "Alright, Toshokama. I accept your invitation."

A look of demented glee rippled through his face. He clapped his hands together one time, whisky bottle half empty on the desk and cigar balancing dangerously between two of his fingers. "Splendid! I look forward to seeing you there, Seto. I think I'll call you Seto from now on. It seems like the appropriate time."

Hate surged within me. It was a surprising hatred, actually. Previously, for the past few days, I had been under the impression that I could not feel an emotion that strong. Unfortunately, it left as quickly as it came, and I was left just annoyed.

I stood there.

"You may go now, Seto. Our meeting is over, I believe."

"What about tonight's payment?" I asked, an aged type of shock creeping over me.

"I'm afraid there won't be any. You see, I've put all my money into this suitcase. There was hardly any left for tonight."

Not surprising. What did he hope to gain by doing this to me? Yet…I couldn't help but feel like I had sold myself out for nothing…that whole show I had put on…

"See you the first Friday of the month."

With renewed force, I ripped my suitcase off his desk and stormed out of his office, wishing to be rid of this place for a few weeks. That was a positive aspect to the invitation, I suppose.

I seethed all the way down to the second floor of Toshokama's house. It is safe to say that I was sure where I was going; I knew the way from having been here so many times before. Then I ran into something. At first I thought it was something like a foot stool. But when I stepped back I realized that it was moving. Running, to be precise.

The thing ran behind a wall my left side. I whipped my head around to stare at it. But it was hidden. The only thing that told me it was still standing there was a small, white hand peaking out from the wall, gripping it tightly.

A child?

"Come out," I said, knowing full well that it could hear me.

Slowly, shakily, (surely this child was afraid of me, I had been wearing a look that could kill when I ran into it), a small head peered at me from behind the wall. Round, dust gray eyes looked at me, frightened. There was a small patch of hair on the head, it was long, though, falling down past the shoulders. I could guess by the femininity in the mouth and nose, too, (as pale and delicate as a flower bud), that is was a girl. Also, by the hair and the face I could tell that this was clearly a product of Toshokama.

"Are you Toshokama's child?" I asked, wary about asking daughter or son.

The small head nodded. I blinked heavily and said, "I see. It's alright, I won't hurt you. You can come out."

The rest of the child left the safety of the wall, showing a gaunt, bony, fragile body clothed in a tight white nightgown, revealing a young girl's body of almost eight, I guessed by the barely developing figure. "Are you alright?" I had practically run her over when we collided.

She nodded quickly, as if afraid to see my reaction.

"What's your name, little one?" I asked. Don't ask me why I was so interested in her. I definitely shouldn't have been. I should have had enough of that mother-role between taking care of the depressed Yugi and my little brother. Mokuba…I figured it out. This girl had Mokuba's eyes. The very same expression.

Her face fell to the ground uncomfortably. "Mi…Miyuki…"

"Miyuki?" I repeated.

She nodded.

"Where is your mother, Miyuki?"

Her eyes, so reminiscent of Mokuba, met mine again. Her skinny shoulders formed a small shrug. "Okāsan…" she added, contemplatively.

After her shoulders fell back down, a lock of her charcoal black hair fell across the side of her face. She left it there, still looking pensive about her missing mother. I hated when Mokuba's hair did this. Unconsciously, I reached out a hand and gently wiped the hair away from her small, pale face.

She visibly flinched, but didn't dart away from me like I thought she would. With her hair drawn away from her, Miyuki looked a lot skinnier. Her neck was pencil-thin. And there were…small, reddish purple marks, like smudges, on the side of it.

I sighed and let her hair drop behind her back. With the edge of my knuckles I brushed the marks on her neck, such a small caress, hoping against reality that my touch would magically heal them and they would disappear. It's not like they had a right to be there in the first place.

The girl's muscles tightened up in permanent recoil against my touch. Her eyes were squeezed tight, wrinkling her striking facial features.

"He did this to you, didn't he? Your father?"

Her eyes opened a crack and she gave me a small nod. I saw some tears well up behind those dirty gray eyes. They didn't look like Mokuba's anymore.

I removed my hand from her neck. Her muscles loosened and her eyes opened fully. I looked down at her and this little girl looked back up at me, expectantly, with eyes that streamed tears down her entire face without any sign that she wanted to stop them. Her expression was so obvious. She wanted me to do something. One more thing.

"Gomen nasai," I told this helpless little girl. "I can't do that." Believe me. I wanted to. I would if I could. But I had too much else…Yugi, Mokuba, a failing company, Jou, and not to mention an unalterable deal with this girl's father that blocked me from helping her.

She looked down at the floor and began sniffling hopelessly. Where had my heart gone? I felt the pain she was inflicting on me with these solemn tears, but I had not the heart with which to reach out and help her, like I had done with Yugi. Where was my heart?

I turned away from Miyuki, the back of my usual black trench coat put a punctuation on the subject. Ending it.

Still, "Wait!" she called after me just as I had begun to walk reluctantly out of the house I had been so desperate to leave a moment before.

My steps halted. I couldn't turn back and look at her, though. Then it would start again and I would never leave her. This girl that resembled my brother so fiercely. Please don't let her beg me.

"What is…your name?" Her sentence was filled with pauses because of her racking tears.

"Seto," I responded. She did not need to know the Kaiba added on to the front of that name. It's not like she would have known who I was or anything. She had no way of knowing that. I just couldn't bring myself to tell her the whole thing. I don't know why.

I remained where I was for a few more minutes. She had nothing else to say. I allowed my feet to begin walking again and I left Toshokama's house. For a few weeks.

I think I slept on the flight home. I must have, I remember nothing of it. This was happening to me a lot where I would just forget whole occurrences in my life without any recollection of what I did. Maybe this flight was one of these times. I'm not sure.

Nakamura was waiting for me at the end of the parking lot like he always was. It was so late it was early, 4:12 a.m. My loyal driver had fallen asleep in the front seat of my limousine waiting for me. Damn. Now I had to shoulder the guilt of waking this poor man.

I tapped ever so lightly on the window next to him. He didn't move. Damn it all to hell. With my set of keys, I unlocked the car and opened the door, releasing cold air onto the warm, asleep man in the front seat. Despite all previous notions, Nakamura still did not stir. So, I was forced to shake him by grabbing his shoulder. "Nakamura…" I prompted lightly.

It took a few times, but eventually he did wake up with a start. "Oh, gomen nasai, Kaiba-sama, I must have fallen…gomen nasai, I—.."

I silenced his protests with a hand. "It's alright, Nakamura. You're tired, I understand. You shouldn't be expected to work in hours like this. Get in the passenger seat. I'll drive tonight."

"Oh, iie, Kaiba-sama, I couldn't possibly—.."

I shook my head. "I insist." It was the least I could do for my poor driver. He had done nothing to deserve the treatment I put him through. So, he moved over into the passenger side like I instructed and we made our way to my mansion. It was a silent drive. There was nothing that needed to be said.

We sat in my driveway for a few minutes upon arrival. Nakamura appeared to waiting for something. "What is it?" I asked.

"Well, Kaiba-san, it's just that…well, my wife has been insisting for a long while that I discuss with you this month's pay, because the month is coming to a close in a few weeks"—Yes, it is, isn't it?—"and this is the usual time I would be paid…"

I closed my weary eyes. Another person to disappoint with my failure. "I don't think I'll be able to make it this month." Second month in a row.

Without any hesitation Nakamura said, "I understand, sir. I'll see you tomorrow."

I agreed and unlocked the door so he could get out quickly. I was afraid that my voice would fail me if he stayed any longer. Nakamura's kindness was too much for my heartless mind and body. But he took the hint. Since the limousine was always kept at my house, but Nakamura had to drive to and from my mansion to his own home, I parked the limousine and watched as he drove away in a small, economic car. He deserved a better car than that piece of shit. Without thanks of course to my pathetic inability to pay him anything.

The house was quiet and dark when I entered, trying to empty my thoughts. It was getting a little cold in here, was it not? I thought about this, rubbing my hands together for warmth as I traversed the stairs, it really was cold in here…why was…

Oh.

When I reached the top of my stairs I realized why. The lights were on in the living room and Yugi was sitting on the couch looking lifeless. Every single window in the room was open, letting all the cold night air in. I stood there, witness to all this strangeness, and Yugi continued to stare at the floor, seemingly unaware of my presence at all.

My vision graced each and every window, willing them to close and stopper this flow of coldness, but also to give a clue as to why Yugi was doing this. It took me a while to work up the courage and make a noise.

"Yugi…" I began.

He looked up at me. "Where have you been, Kaiba?" he asked.

His eyes were almost too much to bear. I had to keep my own focused on his, though. Then he would know that I wasn't afraid of him. If…he even…thought that…well, it was a logical decision regardless.

"I told you, I had a meeting to attend in Nagasaki. Remember?"

He looked away. "I forgot."

More silence. I had to do this. One deep inhale and, "Why are the windows open, Yugi?"

"It was so hot in here…" he said. It really wasn't of course.

"Perhaps it was, Yugi. But I feel that if you leave these windows open on a cold night like this you might get sick." That was his plan, wasn't it? To be sick? I'm told that when you get very physically ill it makes you feel closer to death so that when you get better you can look at your life more clearly. Maybe Yugi had no want to recover from illness. Maybe he just wanted to feel nearer to death.

"You think so?"

"It's entirely possible, Yugi. You probably want that, though, don't you?"

He nodded and looked down.

"I thought as much. That's not the way to get through this, however. I'm going to close the windows now." The look of sadness on his face was heart-wrenching. I was reminded of Miyuki.

After each and every window was closed, I showed up next to Yugi's quivering side. "Yugi, wanting to die is not something I allow in this house. No matter how miserable life is, you must never seek to destroy yourself. To give up is to accept ultimate failure. And if I know you, failure is not your style. The next time you try something like this, when I stop you I'm going to have you committed to the asylum." The last part of that sent Yugi into damn shivers.

"Don't try it again." My final word said, I grabbed Yugi's hands so they would stop shaking.

His breath was shaky but still the boy managed, "You wouldn't. I'm not crazy."

I shrugged. "I would." It's true, Yugi wasn't crazy. But he wasn't exactly sane either. Although, on levels of sanity, I found myself ranking lower than Yugi anyway. Maybe I should have myself committed sometime. As strange as it was, the idea of being zonked on lithium 24/7 had a strange appeal to it…never have to feel again…But that would never happen. There was no way I would let it. I banished the thoughts.

Yugi broke into tears. Once he stopped shaking, I left the room. I wagered that it was alright to leave Yugi alone; I think I scared him enough so he wouldn't try something that stupid again.

Believe me, suicide had become a regular notion in my mind many times in my life. Gozaburo's wrath proved painful—in every way. And my company was, essentially, my life. Why would I have a reason to live if I didn't have a company? Dying would prove a very useful solution to many of my problems, current and past.

No matter what, though, I refused to accept a failure. I would sooner resign myself to the streets begging for cash, like that man I had run into after my first night with Toshokama, than do that. It was not the way I had been taught. So, still, I lived on. If I could survive what I had been through, Yugi could survive as well. He could attempt it, but I would never let him do it. (And, in all fairness, I probably wouldn't commit him either. He was my burden alone.)

A deep exhale. Alright, I should probably go check on Mokuba. He was in his bed, face down, safe and sound when I got to his room. A closer look told me, however, that he was not sleeping. I dared try something with my brother that hadn't worked for years.

"Mokuba," I whispered from my spot next to his bed. "What's wrong? Why can't you sleep?"

He shrugged from his position lying down. The covers rustled with his movement.

"You should. It's very early, you'll have to get up for school in a few hours."

"I'm not going to school."

This was new, (sort of). "Naze?"

"I'm just not."

"Mokuba…I am not going to let you do that. I think you know that already."

My little brother sighed and turned around onto his back. His eyes flashed mine for a brief second and I felt the physical pain inflicted on me by that solemn, abused little girl at Toshokama's. I wasn't worthy to take care of my brother. Think of it, a man who abandons helpless girls and then claims to take care of his little brother?

"The funeral is tomorrow…" Mokuba said, randomly.

"Today," I corrected him absent-mindedly, thinking of the many marks on that girl.

"Right…" he said, glancing at the digital clock next to his bed.

"What does it matter, Mokuba?" I asked.

His gaze fired at me accusingly. "You saw how he reacted today! Or…yesterday…er, whatever! How can you say that it doesn't matter?"

I held up my hands in a gesture to calm him down. "Relax, Mokuba. Whatever happens will happen. There's nothing I can do to prevent his sadness, Otōto."

Mokuba shrunk back down into his bed. "I guess not."

Let me try this same old ploy to get my brother to see things rationally, the exact opposite of what appealed to him every time I said it. "Mokuba…I know that this has to affect you somehow. And I apologize that it does, I truly do."

His little eyes fixated on me again, waiting, and then becoming impatient. "But?"

I stared at him. "But nothing. There is no excuse. You have to carry on with life the way it is for now. Things will get better soon." It was funny to hear myself spit out these old, tired words that I didn't even believe myself. I did this constantly. How could I expect anything better for my brother or the depressed boy currently crying in the living room because his one option of solace—suicide—had just been taken away from him?

Mokuba seemed unsatisfied with this answer. He burst into tears. "What's been going on with you, Seto? You've been acting so weird lately!"

I opened my mouth to speak an answer, but he stopped me. "I know, I know, the company is going down, you told me. Seto…just go away!"

My body froze. I was stunned. Mokuba had never openly dismissed me like that. Yet, after a second, I thawed. Of course Mokuba wanted to be rid of me. I was a failure as an older brother. Why should I burden his sight any longer? With slow force, I lifted myself up and left the room without another word.

Just as I got to the door I heard something that sounded like, "Seto—.." but I was already gone.

Konnichiwa, office. How are you? We haven't spoken since yesterday morning? Are you feeling alright? Separation anxiety?

I paused right before I was about to sit down on my chair. "Stop talking to inanimate objects, Seto. Get a hold of yourself." Especially your office chair.

My laptop displayed the figures. $14. In all. Suddenly I had a strange desire to laugh. Don't laugh, Seto, don't laugh. But the corners of my mouth were twitching and my abdomen burned with hysterics. Don't laugh…don't laugh…

I gave up and let myself explode into laughter. Really, I laughed so hard my face was red and my eyes were wet with tears.

_What the hell could possibly be funny?_

This…

_What about "this"?_

This whole thing is insane…

_And that's funny?_

Hai…

_You're sick! You're insane! You were going to have Yugi committed? And yet you're sitting here laughing hysterically because your company truly has burned and crashed? It's gone, Seto face it. All your hard work, everything you ever tried to succeed in, it's all gone…and stop that laughing!_

But it's just so funny…

_Stop it!_

"Hee hee…"

_Stop, I command you!_

I put a hand over my mouth, and clasped it there, tightly. But once I got started it was impossible to stop. My laughter burst out of my hand and returned with a vengeance.

_Seto…think of something that isn't funny. _

Starvation. Starvation is not funny. Starvation, starvation, starvation, starvation…I laughed on, laughing at myself now more than anything else.

_Just let it go, now. _

Following the ever-present advice in my head, I let my laughter die down. I felt dizzy when I finally returned to normal. I shook my head, regaining the normal color in my face, embarrassed at the outburst of…whatever the hell that just was.

_You're going insane, Seto._

"Like I don't know that."

_You realize that you actually said that just now, not just thought it?_

My head poked up and I glanced around the room. No one was here, anyway. But I decided to end these little conversations with the voice in my head. (That does not sound very sane…) I turned the voice off as best I could and started to get to work.

Mokuba stopped me when it was time for the funeral. The three of us went to the parlor again, and later the graveyard, where finality breeds in despair. Of course Yugi's friends were there, frolicking around in tears, hugging the boy and everything. That annoying one was there, too, that Anzu. She was there, and looking very Chinese to me all of a sudden. The only one not there was Jou. His absence was felt by all—even inducing a little anger on the parts of the pointy-haired one and Ryuuji, (who still arrived there together, I have to comment on).

"Damn it…why the hell can't Jou just get here the fuck on time for once! It's Grandpa's funeral for God's sake!" Hiroto roared.

"I know, where is Jou?" Anzu asked. Looking up from Yugi's head, which was currently buried in her stomach.

Ryuuji sighed. "Who knows?"

I knew. Jou was avoiding me. That had to be it. But…would he miss the funeral of his best friend's grandfather? A man so close to them that even the people that weren't related to him called him "Grandpa"? I wasn't sure. Who could be sure of Jou's actions anymore?

The ceremony ended like the last. With Yugi crying at the side of the grave and Jou still not present. Anzu offered to invite everyone over her house for food and whatever, but I glanced down at Yugi's unstable form and then said to her, "I'm just going to take Yugi home now, the rest of you can go if you want."

Anzu looked at me as if she were seeing me for the first time. Don't pretend you know me, little girl. Just look away. "Alright, Kaiba," she offered. "I think that's…a pretty good…idea." Struggling are we?

I turned to Mokuba who flinched when I looked at him. "Would you like to go with them?"

He seemed unsure if any answer was correct, the way he glanced around at everyone hoping for some kind of reassurance. Finally Ryuuji said, "Come on, Mokuba, I'll show you the new Dungeon Dice Monsters game I'm inventing. You want to see?"

Mokuba's head turned hesitantly up towards mine. I nodded once, telling him that it was alright. My little brother looked back at Ryuuji and smiled, leaving my side for his. I wanted my brother to have fun, to be able to think of something other than the depressing atmosphere of our home. Of me. I was glad to see him go. Also, I decided not to set a limited date for the visit. Let him steal as many hours away from us as he could. Most of me trusted insipid Ryuuji and effervescent Anzu because of the collateral I held in my hands, (literally).

But, just to be sure, I looked at each one of Yugi's friends. "Take care of him." I hoped my gaze was something fierce. These days I never knew if it was or not.

Ryuuji's eyes flicked towards Yugi then met mine in one movement. "You, too."

I nodded. "Let's go, Yugi," I lead him away from the scene.

"Wait…" he said. "I just want to say good-bye one more time." I agreed to this and returned to the grave, just one last time. Yugi spoke some words to the headstone, I didn't hear them. My back was turned as I watched the threesome take my brother into their car and drive away. Please forget about this for a little while, Mokuba. Have fun. You deserve it as much as anyone.

When I looked back, Yugi was slumped against the headstone. There were no more words. Silence lay around us both, along with the slight rustling of the trees around us. The wind was vengeful today, piercing through my trench coat with renewed hatred. Yugi's hair was tangled in itself, creating a massive ball of random color. As the wind picked up even more, resonating through-out the graveyard, I decided that this was enough time.

"Yugi, we have to go, now, alright?"

I saw the boy brace himself against my words and hold the headstone tighter. I prepared myself for a fight—again—but to my surprise Yugi let go of his own accord just as I was heading to fetch him. "Hai, Kaiba. Let's go."

He made our way home just like that. It was the first time I could remember not having to carry Yugi away from his grandfather. Was this a positive sign? I could never be sure.

When we stepped through the door of my house, Yugi made an announcement. "I think I'm going to call Jou."

"And do what?" I just wanted to make sure Yugi wasn't planning anything vindictive. He was not himself lately, after all.

"See if he's ok. I haven't seen him since Sunday." This was the longest, most cohesive, unfaltering sentence Yugi had uttered since his arrival. I admit to being a little proud of him.

"Alright." I would be amazed if Yugi actually had the courage to call Jou's house after the conversation he had left off with the last time. The one he had spoken in English. I still wondered about that phone call. I was almost sure that that as Jou's father Yugi had been speaking to. It made sense, American accent, Jou's mention, bastard-like creature, broken home. The pieces fit. Still…I was not in the practice anymore of becoming sure of myself on anything. So I held onto my guesses with quiet suspicion.

I trailed Yugi, (interesting turn of events), into the kitchen and handed him the phone. He made no sign of wanting me to leave so I stayed. His fingers made their way to dial, but Yugi only got as far as the first number before he turned to me and said, "I'm afraid to."

"Why are you afraid, Yugi?"

"His father's…really mean…" Yugi looked away.

That basically assured my suspicions. "He doesn't speak Japanese, does he?"

A tri-colored head whipped around at me. "How did you know that?"

It's possible that a few months ago I would have smiled at this question. "I heard you speaking on the phone with someone and mention Jou's name. In English. Right after that you told me that someone—'he'—was so mean. It wasn't that hard to figure out."

Yugi's eyes became hooded. "You've been spying on me then."

"Something like that."

He glared.

My arms folded across my chest and I simply said, "I have a right to."

Yugi still seemed angry, but he let it go because I was correct. Then he made a suggestion, "Call him for me," He offered up the phone. "Ask him if he's ok."

My voice caught in my throat. Call…Jou? The boy I had forced into a kiss not four days ago? Ask him if he was alright? And look like I wanted more?

_Don't you want more?_

Damn voice was back, taunting even more. I stared into the space next to Yugi's head. I guess I did want to see Jou again. The very thought of that sent my body into shakes. Jou's arms wrapped around me…chin on my shoulder…kissing my neck with those beautiful lips…

"Uh, Kaiba?"

I was ripped from my impure thoughts back to Yugi. I had no right to be thinking of Jou that way. Not after what I had done to him. And did I blame him for staying away from me? Of course not. He was bound to want to avoid the man who molested him, wasn't he? I knew from experience that that was usually the case.

"Hey, Kaiba?"

Once more, I thought again of Yugi. What to tell Yugi now? I don't think Ill call your friend for you, Yugi. I don't think I want to force myself again on the boy you so love. I think I'll just keep my vision trained on this one spot and leave it there…

"Kaiba!"

That one was with force. "Nani?" I asked.

"You were spacing again." Yugi looked a little worried.

I definitely was. "Right. Gomen."

"Do…you want to call Jou?"

There is no way I would. Quickly, I made up a scenario on the spot. "Yugi, I have not gotten any sleep in about four or five days, so, I think I'll go lay down upstairs. But give me his phone number; I'll call him later on for you."

The boy looked wary but still said, "Well…ok…you should sleep…" He wrote down Jou's phone number on a piece of paper and handed it to me. I stuffed it in my trench coat pocket. "Dōmō." I stepped out of the room, heading straight to my bedroom without any thought. I knew I was never going to get any sleep. Although I really couldn't picture resigning myself back to my office chair, insanity looming dangerously close overhead. I didn't want to be attacked with another fit of laughter that I couldn't explain. And maybe just laying there would ease my Jou-ridden, Toshokama imprinted, CEO driven mind for a while. I also needed a shower.

My room offered no solace for me when I entered. It was a place for nightmares the last time I had been here. I set my trench coat on the bed and began to undress. These were still the same clothes from last night, I realized with a start. I had forgotten to take them off. This whole day I had reeked of him!

Like a mad man, I began ripping the clothes off my body, tearing off some buttons, causing some threads to loosen and tear, scratching my neck with one of my fingernails. I shivered after every shred of clothing was thrown many feet away from me, more out of disgust than cold.

To have been smelling of that man for the entire day…the thought made me retch. I ran to the bathroom and succeed in choking out globs of saliva in a painfully dry regurgitation. I coughed afterwards, my throat in disarray. That was horrible…I would never wear those clothes again. Ever. I would burn them and desecrate the ashes. It seemed the only logical choice.

Moving away from the sink, I went to turn on the water. Make it warm.

I found myself a little bit tired after the shower. I did not have the strength to pick up the clothes on the floor. I just wanted to lie down…rest my head for a moment or two…Before I even knew what I was doing, my body had done just that, wet hair staining the pillow.

Sleep beckoned me surprisingly loudly. How long had it been since sleep? Saturday night? It was Wednesday after noon. That wasn't too long…

Involuntarily, an image of Jou—just as he was in my old office when we shared a kiss—was called to my mind. "Katsuya…" I whispered to the air, thinking of what he would say right now. I missed that damn American accent…

Katsuya…his likeness faded abruptly.

It is so cold. Why am I here? I'm here for a reason, I know I am. The wind the is so cold…

I remember Gozaburo, I remember what he said…

"_Do you understand, Seto?"_

_I shook my head no. _

"_Do you understand Seto?" His fist smacked the desk. _

_With a small flinch, I nodded vigorously. "Hai, Otōsan."_

He said…he said…

There is a man at the door. I'm chained, ready to consumed by him. "Don't cry, Seto, don't cry. I'm not going to hurt you."

But it does hurt. A lot. The pain…cold…pain…his eyes are golden like a wolf's, please don't let him eat me…someone, anyone…Suddenly he is a wolf and—..

"HELP ME!" I screamed, falling out of bed, tangled up in my towel. My body was once again covered in sweat. Damn nightmare. I was right. This bedroom really is the place for nightmares.

Was it the same one? I hold a hand to my head and raised myself wearily. The same dream? Is that possible? I think so. I felt the same way after it was over. What had I screamed, though? It was "iie" last time, I knew that. This time it had been "help me", I supposed. That didn't mean anything.

I decided promptly to forget about it. I didn't need this dream on top of everything else in my life. This reoccurring nightmare. Damn it. Why had I deemed it alright to sleep? Had I not known that this would happen?

Rummaging through my drawer for some clothing, I tried to will the feeling back into my body. It felt numb with internal pain, after that dream. I had felt this way for a while, ever since that girl Miyuki had so blatantly made me realize the absence of a heart within me.

I was still alive, I knew that much. But nothing felt real. Even as I put on new clothes and my old trench, (which had fallen to the floor in my tumult), I realized that part of me was dying, if not already dead. It wasn't even a surprise, or something I hadn't been expecting. This piece of me, the part marked with death, had been dying for a while now. Ever since this all began.

I needed to get away. Not to life, though. I didn't think there was any place breathing of life that would accept me, a dead man. I needed to go someplace where death manipulated the living. A void. A place of suspended hardship and suffering, washed away in momentary suspension.

It took me all of a single minute to decide on a bar. I needed a hell of a drink.

Grabbing my wallet—that actually contained money in it, a total of $50, more than the total amount my company was worth—off the dresser, I left my cursed bedroom and descended the many levels of home before the front door.

I passed the living room where Yugi was reclining on the couch watching the news on television. "I'm going out, Yugi," I announced. "I don't know when I'll be back."

"Uh…ok, I guess. Did you…get any sleep?" His head peeked up from the couch.

"Some." Best leave it at that. We stood there staring at each other for a few more minutes before I left. Get my drink.

I chose a random car to get me to the bar. I honestly don't even remember what it looked like to be sincere with you.

By the time I actually reached the highway, it was dark outside. My watch said 8:43. That was pretty late, actually. I was not aware that I had slept for such a long time. But for drinking, it was damn early. Oh well. The emptier the bar, the better the solitude.

I decided on an old bar I knew of called "Kazumi to Nuki", named, I assume, after it's owner and his wife, (a robust old man with no teeth that drank beer all day and spoke in broken Japanese and a barren woman with skin hanging off her bones in clumps—or at least, those were the rumors). They served warm sake in the middle of the day. That was pretty good.

I parked my car in front of the building, where it was set off from the highway on a dirt path. The bar resembled a run down American-cabin like place. The front windows had some cracks in them, from fights probably, but I really did not care. It seemed like the perfect place for a night of drinks and numbness. And death, of course.

I entered the bar promptly, making eye contact with each person in the room, (all five of them). There was the bartender, an old Japanese man with wispy white hair and black eyes. He wiped the counter down with a raggedy towel and offered me a scowl when I stepped in. Kazumi, I assume? There was a woman sitting near the television screen barking orders at a baseball game that was going on. She turned only briefly to stare at me and then quickly resumed her shouting. A young couple, man and a woman, they looked European and spoke in hushed voices that stopped when I stepped in. Mouths open and hanging they stared dumbly at me as I traversed the length of the bar and sat down a few seats away from a homeless man, dead asleep with an empty bottle of American whisky clutched in his dirty hand.

Like I imagined: Not a place for the living.

The bartender ambled over to me. His voice was gruff, but interestingly well-versed. "What would you like, sir?"

"A bottle of warm sake." No pleasantries. I had no will for them.

He complied quickly. He even served it in a kettle, the traditional way to serve warm sake. The kettle offered warmth for my hands. It was far from soothing, however.

With the determination of a man heading towards his own execution, I threw the kettle's spout into the back of my mouth and drank. The rush of alcohol down my throat gave my brain a slight jolt. When I opened my eyes, after the kettle had been drained, the vision of the bar swam before me. It took my awhile to get used to the intake.

I turned to the bartender, who was staring at me with wide eyes. "Another, please," I asked. Surely, I was already tipsy.

He came around with the next kettle. Before I drank, I decided that I should definitely have something to drink to.

To Mokuba, my poor lost, hurting, confused little brother who wanted nothing more than to help his big brother. _Gulp_

To Yugi and his dead grandfather recently put in the ground. May your suicidal longings be put at ease. _Gulp_

To my company. $14. And still young. _Gulp_

To Toshokama. Have a heart attack. _Gulp_

To my stepfather…well, he was dead. In his grave he had been rotting for about three years. Honor and glory. His biggest dream. _Gulp_

To Miyuki, the helpless little girl I could not save. _Gulp_

To…Ryuuji and his lover Hiroto. Lots of luck. _Gulp_

To Anzu Mazaki, the Chinese bubble. _Gulp_

To the loyal Nakamura, may your wife still love you, and may you live a long and happy life as your reward. _Gulp_

To Ichigata-san, my nerdy Vice President whom I hadn't seen in days. _Gulp_

To my secretary, always looking for a man in all the wrong places. _Gulp_

The bottle was almost empty…I needed a good one for this last gulp. I knew one.

To Jonouchi Katsuya. Thank you for haunting my thoughts constantly and may you be free from my gripping forced-love. _Gulp-gulp_

Now I was tipsy.

At around 10:00, (three kettles later), I felt damn right drunk. Every part of me was numb with the chemical. My brain felt like it was shut off, but my eyes were still on. And I felt only one emotion: depression. It was lodged deep within my chest, a permanent fixture of sadness.

More people started showing up. The place was getting filled, actually. I had no idea it was this popular. The sake was good, though.

Somewhere in my drunken stupor, I remember hearing the bartender play an American rock song over the speaker. I believe it was called "Black Hole Sun" by Soundgarden. The music was loud, but the song was so and methodical. It rhymed with my mind's state.

_In my eyes. Indisposed. In disguise as no one knows._ I rested my head against the countertop and took another of the kettle. It missed my mouth completely.

_Hides the face. Lies the snake. In the sun in my disgrace. _I was not in the mood for sleep. How about another gulp…

_Boiling heat. Summer stench. Beneath the black the sky looks dead. Call my name…through the cream…and I'll hear you scream again…_

My vision swirled in time to the slow beat.

_Black hole sun. Won't you come? And wash away the rain…Black hole sun. Won't you come? Won't you come? Won't you come…_

Random thoughts jumped around my mind. I think some guy might have been clapping me on the back for having downed five kettles so far. His voice was loud in my ear, but eventually he went away. I didn't say anything to him as far as I remember.

_Stuttering. Cold and damp. Steal the warm wind tired friend. Times are gone…for honest men. And sometimes far too long for snakes…_

Oh Katsuya…I'm sorry I did all that to you. Please…onegai…forgive me…

_In my shoes. Walking sleep. And my youth I pray to keep. Heaven send…hell away…No one sings like you anymore…_

_Black hole sun. Won't you come? And wash away the rain…Black hole sun. Won't you come? Won't you come?_

I threw my head down on the counter top in such distress, bouncing the drinks resting around me. Gomen nasai, Katsuya…forgive me…gomen nasai…

_Black hole sun. Won't you come? And wash away the rain…Black hole sun. Won't you come? Won't you come? Won't you come? (Black hole sun) Won't you come? (Black hole sun) Won't you come? (Black hole sun) _

The song became an anthem of my pain and sorrow. I felt a physical force tear through my body when I thought of Katsuya and the damage I had done to him.

_Hang my head. Drown my fear. Until you all just disappear…_

Slowly the people around me were fading into nothing. "Katsuya…" I began moaning into the countertop stained with warm sake that hadn't quite made it to my mouth.

_Black hole sun. Won't you come? And wash away the rain…Black hole sun. Won't you come? Won't you come? Black hole sun. Won't you come? And wash away the rain…Black hole sun. Won't you come? Won't you come? Won't you come? (Black hole sun) Won't you come? (Black hole sun) Won't you come? (Black hole sun) Won't you come? (Black hole sun) Won't you come…_

_Won't you come? Won't you come… _

Eventually, as the song was reaching its end, the bartender shook me. "I think it's time you headed home, my friend. Do you have someone you can call and give you a ride? You're in no state to drive."

I caught about half that. But I did hear the part about calling someone. I nodded and he handed me a cell phone. Without even thinking about whom to call, my hand reached into my trench coat pocket and fished out the number Yugi had given me.

It took my a few minutes to get my bearings straight with the phone, (the numbers all looked like random circles to me, and what exactly did the number 7 look like?), but I eventually mastered this and reached Jou. I didn't even think about the fact that Jou's father might answer, I just knew that on the other end of this phone there was a boy that I needed very much to talk to.

Fortunately for my drunken mind, Jou was the one who answered the phone.

"Moshi moshi?" The accent rang true.

Without thinking I blurted out, "Jou, gomen nasai…I didn't mean to…"

"Who the hell is this?" The voice was suddenly on the defensive.

"Gomen, really, I wish I hadn't…"

"Kaiba is this you?"

"Hai…gomen nasai…"

"What are ya talkin' about?" He seemed confused, struggling to keep up with the twists in this inane phone call.

"I didn't mean to force you, gomen nasai…"

"Wha—oh…Kaiba…where are ya?"

"In a bar…"

"Oh, god, Kaiba are you drunk?"

"Very." That much I knew.

"Oh, Jesus Christ. Where are you?"

"In a bar…" I repeated, dazed.

"What's the name of the bar?"

I thought hard. "…Kazume to…Nauta?"

"Kazumi to Nuki?"

"I think so…"

"Ok, I'm gonna come and get ya, alrigh'? Just sit tight, I'll be there in a sec." He hung up.

I handed the phone back to the bartender. "Someone is…to come and get me…" I managed.

He nodded. "Go and wait outside. You're scaring off some of the customers." His hand waved me off. I tried to stand on my legs, but the ground felt like it was moving. I tripped and fell flat on my face. I was too drunk to realize the pain. Some people around me started laughing and applauding. No one helped me up. I summoned strength to raise myself off the ground, in the process feeling something hot and sticky on my chin that when I touched came away red. Slowly, I made a shaky way to the front door, which I ran into once, invoking more laughter from the people sitting around me, before I opened it and stepped into the cold night air.

My watch said the time was around 12:34. It was that late?

Jou was true to his word. By 12:36 he was standing right above me. His figure was so welcome to my form, I would have hugged him if I had the strength to stand.

"Konnchwa, Jou…" It was the best I could do.

"Shit, Kaiba…" he said, brown eyes squinting in disgust, grabbing me around the wrists to pull me to my feet. I managed to stand on my own feet for all of two seconds before I fell forward again, right into his arms.

I began laughing for no reason again, although it wasn't as bad as the previous time. He was so warm…his arms around me…he felt so nice holding me up…

"Kaiba, you smell like aboutfive kettles of warm sake," he informed me, turning me around so my back faced him.

We had begun to walk away from the bar when I said, "Something like that…" Who was counting?

We walked carefully into a now full parking lot. "My car…" I protested.

Jou considered this. "And…ya wanna go home like this? Really?"

I thought. Iie, I did not want to return home in this state, drunk and confused in front of Mokuba and Yugi, the two people I needed to be strong for. "Iie…not home…"

"I didn' think so. And I can't take ya car to my house, so we're gonna have to walk."

I blanched. "You walked here?"

"Yup. No other way."

I wanted to say something to this, as I watched my car disappear behind us, but didn't get a chance to say anything other than, "I don't…feel well…" as ample warning before I leaned over and vomited all my stomach's weak, sake-ridden contents onto the pavement.

"Gross, Kaiba. Real gross. That was an inch away from my shoes." I laughed at that. Hard.

"That definitely wasn't funny."

"I know…" It all made perfect sense suddenly. Everything. The depression in my chest was still there, but that only made it funnier. "Jou…you know what the best part is?" I barely managed to say this with all my laughter.

"Uh…of what?"

"No one knows a thing…" I started to laugh again.

"Um…sure…okay, that is kinda funny, I guess."

We then made our weak way to Jou's house. Or at least, it turned out to be an apartment building in the wrong side of town. When we arrived it took a few minutes to orientate me to the stairs we had to ascend to get to the right floor.

Jou's apartment was small, it looked like, and everything smelled noxious inside. A smell I wasn't used to and couldn't place.

Before long, Jou had placed me on some sort of soft…thing…seemed like a bed. When my head hit the pillow, the first thing I remembered was the nightmare I had had earlier. I struggled, and tried to fight Jou, wanting anything else than sleep to plague my mind with nightmares of that man…that horrible man…

"Shh…shh…" Jou held me down with a lot of strength. "S'okay, Seto." He called me Seto…but it was not in a controlling way like Toshokama's…it was in a different way…something better. I relaxed gradually.

"Shh…" I felt Jou's hand on my forehead, stroking it. A towel to wipe the vomit off my mouth, the blood off my chin. "Shh…s'okay…"

Soon, before I could communicate any of my emotions to Jou—new emotions I had never experienced before—I was fast asleep.

There were to be no nightmares that night.

A/N: Whoa, that was a long chapter. It took my all day…all day…to write this. Wow. If you guys are still alive, I commend you for reading this whole long thing! Congratulations!

A few notes: About that tea kettle thing for the warm sake, I'm not sure about that. I saw it in an anime one time, so I think that's right, but I'm not sure. If anyone actually does know, please tell me! Thank you! Also, I know that Seto's personality kind of bounced around in this chapter, but it was the way it was supposed to be. I think…maybe? Well, I tried. And yes, Jou wants to take care of poor drunken Seto. I feel bad for making Seto that pathetically drunk, but the next chapter is going to be so much fun to write…heh.

Anyway, thanks for reading all of this, I can't believe I've spent all day writing this! I wonder what my house looks like…hmm…drop a review to tell me what you thought of it! And if you haven't heard that song by Soundgarden, download it off of iTUNES or something, it's really good!


	8. Comfort

So so so so so so so so SO sorry for the lack of updates. I know it's been almost two months since I last updated. So sorry! Whatever the reason, I just want you all to know that I was not considering deleting this story. I just had no time to write in the past month.

Final note: This story has exceeded "I'd Kill for You" in reviews, (which makes me kind of sad, I guess, because that was my first yaoi and everything but that's ok, really I don't mind!). I mean…wow…you guys are so awesome! (Shall you stay with me after my absence?)

From here on, I advise you to sit back and savor the SxJ…

**_Warning:_** This story contains the usual good stuff—er, I mean, bad stuff—like death, violence, homosexuality, rape, and drinking. Yes, there are many mentions of alcoholism and consumption of alcohol…I don't really see how that's disturbing, but if you find that it is, please don't read! Thank you.

Disclaimer: I don't own YGO.

**Chapter Eight: Comfort**

Dreamless sleeps are always the best sleeps, I think. I'm told that even though you may not remember your dreams, however, that does not mean that you have not had any. The same people tell me that your mind dreams every night, every time you fall asleep, no matter what you remember about the sleep.

I disagree with these people. The first sleep I had at Jou's house, after getting drunk off my head and subsequently taken into his apartment, was utterly dreamless. True unconsciousness. No dreams. I didn't even remember the last time sleep had taken me like this…

And it was forced to end. Life could not be crueler.

The first thing that notified me I could sleep no longer was pain. My head felt like it was actually dislocated from my body in a pit of fire separate from the rest of my body. This pit was filled with flames that were surely from the deepest depths of Hell, if there is such a thing.

The second entity that roused me was the sense of insecurity that one only gets from waking in a bed that isn't yours. I was sure that I was on a bed, but it was not a soft air mattress like I was used to. The bed had a structure of springs. Hard, broken springs that were so shot, my body was literally laying on the frame. The springs poked into my back underneath the scratchy sheets. The sheets did not feel clean, either. They seemed like they hadn't been washed in…well, ever. The blanket above me felt like wool and smelled like sweat.

The last, most prominent thing that roused me from me heavenly sleep was the smell. Of everything. The insufferable smell of cigarette smoke and stale beer lay on top of me like a second blanket. Nothing smelled clean, the sheets, the bed, the apartment itself, nothing. Then there was also the dominating smell of rancid body odor that surrounded my already burning skull. It caused my head to twitch involuntarily on the pillow. I hated having to inhale that poisonous stink, but it was either the toxins or no oxygen, and as much as I disliked it I realized that suffocating was not the proper way for me to die.

Mostly it was the smell that made me open my eyes. Or try to, at least. The actual act came with surprising difficulty. It was almost like there were two lead weights attached to each eye lid. The more I struggled, the more I progressed, but I lost more strength each time.

When I finally managed to pry my eyes open halfway, I found myself staring at a ceiling. Blank, white, cracked plaster. I rolled my eyes around to the floor, an uninteresting, vomit-inducing, gray-green color that had pieces of food and dirt imbedded into its fibers. The entire length of the carpet looked flattened from years of being trampled on by human feet. My eyes followed the carpet around the room until I saw the boundaries of where I resided. The walls were far from me on my left side but on my right side, a single wall was practically on top of me. If I reached over with my right arm, I could just about touch the chipped, pale brown paint with my palm. Also on that wall was a window with the shades pulled down, creating a yellowish glow for lighting. I reasoned that it was either early morning or early evening. This helped me none.

The left side of the room turned out to be much more interesting anyway, as most of the furniture was stored on that side. Directly next to the bed I saw a small wooden chair facing me. What could that possibly be for? I noticed a dresser, missing some drawers, clothes sticking out of it in a fashion that said the person who put them there was in quite a hurry. I noticed a guitar, electric, with a broken 1980s American amplifier attached to it by a long wire. There were other items that my eyes couldn't focus on right away, as well.

I followed the carpet again until the unsightly rug ended at an open doorway. I could partially see some of another room across the hall from mine, but because of the angle of the bed my vision was blocked some.

From a short distance, I could hear noises emanating out of that room. Something sounded like fat and grease sizzling on a grill of some sort. I could not be sure if there was food cooking because the odious smell of the apartment drenched my nostrils completely. Nor did I care.

My mind struggled to think, to create some sort of thought about all this. But the fiery trench encircling my head barred all thought, too. There was a sense of uneasiness lodged deep within my chest. I had no idea where I was, what had happened, or why my head was on fire.

The first logical thing to do was to try and escape. I commanded my arms and legs to move. Interestingly, I discovered that those were made of lead, too. With all my small strength, I could not lift any of my appendages more than a centimeter off the bed. My mind felt ripped to shreds—literally.

A flutter of small panic ensued. Harshly, I demanded myself to relax, inhale a deep breath of fetid air. Once that was settled, I scoured my agonized brain for some information.

_Think, Seto…what is the last thing you remember?_

I remembered…the funeral…Yugi hopelessly clutching his grandfather's grave, sitting home with the windows open…no, that had happened before the funeral, hadn't it? Hai. I remembered Yugi trying to work up the will to call Jou, failing of course, and giving me the phone number…

That sparked something in my mind. Jou's phone number. I knew that number, didn't I? There was something…he gave it to me…and then…what?

I sighed. What the hell was going on? If that was the last thing I remembered, how had I gotten here?

A thought occurred to me. What did this feel like? Damn hangover. I had most likely gotten drunk the night before…of course, I had. It had taken me this long to realize that I was missing a shirt and pants, too. Kami, I could be dense sometimes.

I hoped to hell that he, (whoever he was), had the decency to be attractive and that he hadn't raped me. That would be my first question. "Did you rape me, or was I into it, too?" But it wasn't like I found much horror in rape anymore, especially if the guy was under the age of 50. Yeah, forced sex. Days work for a whore. I wondered if he had brutalized me as well. I didn't have the strength to check my body for bite marks or slap marks, however. I just left it up to chance.

I wished I knew what day it was. I wanted to know if any meetings had been missed, if Mokuba needed to be notified, or if Yugi had killed himself yet. What time was it? I had gone to work with hangovers before. If I could drag myself out of bed and haul my damaged ass to my building there would probably be enough time to check my stock value.

My stock value…why did I want to check that, again? Last time it was somewhere around $14. And Toshokama…how long did I have until his gathering?

Something fell inside of me. Like a stone dropped into a lake from a long distance up. I felt sleepy again. Like my mind couldn't handle all this information…if only I could sleep…

That meeting of Toshokama… I leaned my aching head back into the foul pillow. Through the mixture of sleep and confusion, I felt a want to be dead. Death could help me with all this…a quiet falling into an uncelebrated cavern. That was death. I wanted it so badly just then.

And right when I felt like sleep was about to claim me fully, I heard a distant but clear sound of humming. Someone was humming. It was a tune I recognized. The voice sounded familiar as well; where exactly was I?

Then, I heard footsteps. I summoned the strength to forget about death for a while and raise my eyelids. I directed my hazy vision to the doorway. The person seemed to be moving inside the opposite room. I heard the rustling of pots and pans, a stream of running water, and what sounded like some cabinets opening and closing.

Had I met this person before my drinking binge? I waited, not knowing what to do.

_Listen, Seto…_

Soon enough I heard a loud crash and then a subsequent, soft, "Fuck…" in English.

I leaned my head back down on the pillow. That sounded kind of like…

Fate did not grant me any more time to think on the matter before I felt and sensed a walk of steady footsteps leave the solid floor of the opposite room and switch to carpeted ground.

I felt the person walk into my room. He passed right by my bed, his side bumped into the broken mattress.

With strength from a hidden reservation deep within myself, I loosened my eyelids to find myself staring directly into someone's waist. It was obviously a man; he was wearing a faded white muscle shirt and some blue jeans that actually appeared to be gray from wear. Very American.

Above my head and vision, I heard something like plastic being ripped. A part of me tensed at that. What was he doing? It's not like I had the strength to fight him off. I could not even lift a limb.

Before I had time to contemplate my next course of action, the man pulled up the chair from behind him and sat down.

From that moment on, I hated myself for being consistently correct. His puppy dog face stared straight back into my eyes. I'm not going to deny that I found the sight of him to be both startling and refreshing. For a small second, I forgot the fiery pain in my head and the fiery pain deep within my being. But in the next second I was damning the fates alive that of all the saviors and flings in the world, mine had to be Jonouchi Katsuya.

"Oh, you're awake. Hey." His eyes widened when he said this single, simple greeting. So carefree, as always.

I worked on forming my lips to speak. What first came out was just a groan.

"Yeah, not surprised…" He moved his line of vision away from mine and back to the plastic in his hand. It looked like a pouch of some sort. One of his fingers dipped into it and came back with transparent cream. Jou looked back at me. I watched him curiously as he flung his bangs to the side in a quick, quiet, almost invisible toss of his head, something so trivial but at the same time…so beautiful. Then he moved dangerously close. I had to close my eyes as he applied the cream to my chin.

In an instant I felt a distinct stinging pain in the middle of my chin. I let out an aggravated grunt, (it was the best I could manage). What hurt?

"Hurts? Yeah, ya' banged it good."

I waited until he was finished, trying to remember when I had gotten this new injury. A secret, unwanted type of disappointment filled me when I felt his warmth move away.

"Don't wipe dat off, ok? It's like some medicine cream or somethin'. It should heal the cut."

I worked on forming my lips to move in speech. It took a few minutes but Jou waited without interrupting. "What cut…" I asked.

"I dunno. You had it when I picked ya' up from da bar."

He picked me up from the bar? Again, I cannot lie to you and say that I was surprised. It had to be something like that. Now I just needed to confirm that I hadn't had sex with the mutt. "What…exactly…happened…last night?"

Damn eyes. Why wouldn't they open?

I heard Jou get up from the chair and move to another side of the room, still on my left. "Actually, it was two nights ago. You've been sleepin' for a whole day."

That got my eyes to open. I glared at him where he stood next to something that looked like a lampshade on the floor, scattered among the junk. "A whole day?"

"Yep. You were, uh…pretty drunk, man."

That much I could figure. I tried to remember deciding to get drunk, but nothing came to me.

Jou was standing with his back to me from his corner of the room, not saying anything. With half-lidded eyes I drank the image of him as if drinking a cool glass of water, (my mouth felt so dry my tongue was swollen). To have that cup of sweet moisture in my mouth…

He turned around. I threw my eyes back up to meet his and hoped my face wasn't turning red. "You were damn stoned, as a matter of fact."

Internally, I reprimanded myself for getting off track in my thinking. There was nothing between Jou and me, nor would there ever be, not since I forced him…the old guilt rolled to life like an ocean wave, sloshing around inside me, leaving a trail of washed up pain when it receded.

"I really don't remember," I admitted to his face.

He turned all the way around to face me again. "Not surprised by that, either. I estimated about six or seven kettles of warm sake."

Another groan escaped me. With that new piece of information, my headache seemed to worsen. "…seven…" I said, rolling my head on the pillow, very slowly, in anguish.

"Yeah, I think it was seven. That's what ya' kinda smelled like when I picked ya' up."

"You picked me up?" I asked, looking at him skeptically. I wanted to confirm more about the night.

"Yeah-huh." (I thought that was a weird thing to say. But it suited Jou well; something stirred inside that guilt.) Without much success, I tried to ignore it. "Ya' called me from da bar and I went and gotcha."

Something flashed in my mind. A picture of Jonouchi tossing me up on his shoulder appeared in my mind. I think I remembered some of that. "My car…" I whined.

"We left it there. Ya' said ya' didn' want to go home like dat." I felt both relieved and frustrated by this. What the hell had happened to it, then? Still, I was happy to know that even in a drunken state I could decide that appearing totally foolish and irresponsible in front Mokuba and Yugi was definitely a wrong idea. An imaginary vision of what I would look like totally drunk standing in front of the two appeared alongside the first. Mokuba had tears in his eyes, holding his hands to his face in shame…

Jou's voice startled me out of my depressing premonition. "Don't blame ya' either. I wouldn't wanna look like a jackass in front of my little sister." He had a sister? News.

I thought about this new sister. What was she like? Did she resemble Jou? In any way? Did she have a calming presence that allowed someone to loosen all sense of sincerity when she entered a room? It seemed unlikely. But maybe I could meet her one day…

_Who cares about his sister? It is trivial at this point. _

I know, I know…but still…

_But still nothing._

Helpless against the voice in my mind, I obediently shook the idea away.

Silence loomed over us, hanging in the same league as the odor. Honestly, though, I was beginning to register the smell as normal. I had almost stopped even smelling it at all. It occurred to me, in that silence, that I had not had time to develop a strategy for talking with Jonouchi. The last time we had conversed was in…

The heaviness returned.

"So, uh, ya' probably not hungry but, uh…ya' want somethin' to eat?"

With the house odor gone, I could sniff out the food he was cooking in the room opposite this one. It made my stomach lurch with queasiness. "Not at all."

"Didn't think so. How do ya' feel, though?" He moved closer and sat in the chair again. Notably, I felt his warm presence with every step.

_There is nothing between you two. Remember that. There is nothing. Remember!_

I tried…I was trying but—

"Kaib'?"

I twisted my head up to look at him. "Nani?"

"Uh, I asked, how do ya' feel?" He looked slightly ill at ease by my strangeness. "You okay?"

Another groan. "My head feels like…it's on fire."

"Ever been this hung over before?"

If I had the strength to shrug, I would have. "I don't know."

Suddenly he burst out laughing. The force of it almost barreled me off the bed. What the hell could possibly be funny in this insufferable pain?

Eyes of blue darkened as much as the lead would allow. "Nani?" I demanded of him.

The boy in front of me was leaning back in his chair at the idea which he found so amusing and what I found so mysterious. When my question registered, he wiped the dripping saliva from his contorted mouth with the back of one hand and said, "Ah, nothing…I just didn't think I would ever picture Kaiba Seto stuck in bed with a hangover."

My vision blurred. Kaiba Seto. Me? Oh yes, that was me. Great? Was I? My mind tried to focus on that word, "great". I remembered being great once. Of course I was. I was the Kaiba Seto. But that was in the past. Jou knew nothing of my downfall, apparently. How could he not? Wasn't it in every paper out there? I was nothing great anymore. That much could be said without hesitation.

Maybe that's what confused me so. The old pain that should have been there when Jou mocked my pride was not there. I felt, strangely void of the old loathing. Why would that confuse me? I did not know. I did not care. I just wanted to sleep again…forget this present, confusing situation…about being a whore, (what would Jou do if he knew that the Great Kaiba Seto was also a whore?)…

"Kaiba?"

Hai…forget…my eyes drooped closed again…just forget what the problem itself was, maybe then I could loose this confusion, this absence? Feel something?

"Kaib'?"

Sleep…er, iie, that is not the way to do it. Sleep means nightmares and waking upon a stinking bed on the home of my former—lasting?—enemy. Sleep was not a friend…

"Hey, look, I didn't mean…Kaiba?"

Or should I aspire to sleep forever? And be trapped forever as consequence?

"Kaiba? Talk to me, dammit!"

Sleep beckoned me anyway. I felt darkness pull on the edge of my consciousness. Sleep…sleep…sleep…

"Seto?" I felt a hand on my shoulder, wrench me back from the terrain of blackness.

I still felt so tired. So…tired…my eyes opened briefly, color flashed through my sight, meeting Jou's in a heated but brief second.

"Do you always…call me Seto?" I asked drowsily.

I heard his response, his voice heightened by my subconscious, "Uh, I don't think so…naze?"

"I like it." With that said, I felt like I could rest as long as he knew that. So I fell completely into the sleep.

Even as I slept, my mind moved as though I were awake. Visions that made me feel all kinds of things.

I imagined Jou, the way his arms had latched onto me that night…feeling…

I imagined Jou's sister, standing next to him, hugging him with a smile on her face, because he wasn't a jackass…feeling…

I imagined Mokuba sleeping on his bed and then wakening only to shout at me, "Seto, just go away!" Feeling…

I imagined Yugi, grasping my waist for dear life, crying tears of the deepest grief available to one so young…feeling…

I imagined Miyuki, standing before me, in tears that had become part of her life, begging me to help her…feeling…

I imagined Toshokama, in me, on me, telling me to enjoy it…feeling…

I imagined my stepfather, sitting before me in a desk, looking at me with eyes of steel…steely gray eyes that offered nothing that could be given to me, anything that I deserved or wanted, needed…feeling…

Feeling…

"_You must do as I say. It is for the good of the company, Seto. Nothing else matters."_

_I stared at him._

"_Do you understand, Seto?"_

_I shook my head no._

_A loud smack on his desk with a flat palm, he looked at me again. "Do you understand, Seto?"_

_A small flinch, but then I nodded vigorously. "Hai, Otōsan." _

"_Very well. You are dismissed."_

I lay here, on the bed. Trapped, chained, and naked. Fully open to the future attack. My tears have stopped. The fear within me takes a new turn.

Footsteps at the door. A jingling of keys and then the door opens. The man enters. His face is illuminated by the light behind him, which follows him through the door until he closes it behind him. Now we are in darkness again.

I breathe heavily. Afraid. He's going to…

Gozaburo said…he said…

"Shh…" Like a father consoling a child. "Don't cry, Seto. There is nothing to fear about me."

But there is. I know him. I know him. My stepfather wanted no surprises for me. How can I not cry? I am screaming as loud as I can inside myself.

He slips off his robe—he was wearing one?—and moves toward the bed. "This will all be over soon."

He reaches me. I feel his warmth on top of me briefly and then…

The pain. It hurts. It hurts so much, I can't stand this pain. Pain…I'm cold…cold…

"Stop, please…onegai, please stop…"

Pain…"Shh, shh…don't cry Seto,"…

Then his eyes encounter mine for an instant. Eyes of gold. Eyes like a wolf. He is the wolf consuming me until—

"Stop, PLEASE!"

Darkness met my vision. An alien darkness, like that of a room I was not used to…I turned my shaky eyes to the left side of the room. An American amplifier?

Right. Jonouchi.

Drenched in my own sweat, feeling defeated and embarrassed, I lay back down on the bed, breathing heavily. Another nightmare. Would I be forever cursed with them? Where was the logic in all this? I had no where to escape this time, no bar, no work; I was forced to remain there in that bed with only my lonely, confusing memories of what I had just dreamt. And in Jou's house, nonetheless.

A feeling of dread rose inside of me. Gozaburo. Sitting at a desk. I remembered that. Cold…chained—chained? Was that…hai, there were definitely chains. Chains? The dread reached my throat, creating a sickness there that I had trouble keeping down.

Stop. Stop this now, Seto. Forcibly I clenched my eyes shut and shoved all these memories out of my mind. I didn't need them. Why wouldn't they just go away? Leave me be.

"Damn you…" I whispered to the night air, feeling some tears well up behind my eyes.

Nothing answered me. In fact, I heard nothing except the footsteps above my head, (probably people on the floor above me, stomping around at ungodly hours), the ever-present voice in my head, (_So it appears that you still have those childhood relics hanging around the closet, Seto. You are weak to let them defeat you. They're just juvenile memories; memories of a time you were supposed to have forgotten. And what of those promises to yourself? You surely remember those, don't you? "They are gone, he's gone, they must be gone…I am free of them now…free…" You said that. You did. Remember? What ever happened to that?_), and…something that sounded like…in the next room…was it crying?

From my position, tense and in a state of memory repression, I slowly lost my focus on myself. Jou. I was in his home, after all. His life. I had invaded his life. Had he heard me screaming just as I woke up from the nightmare?

Immediately my mind filled with questions of the boy. Where was Jou? What time was it? Late? I remembered falling asleep in the middle of conversation. Was he angry with me for that? Was he…well, what was he?

My eyes opened slowly and I began to sit up, (strength returns quickly with sleep, so I believe). It felt like my head fell back down on my neck as soon as I moved into a straight position. I had to stop a moment to overcome the sense of dizziness that made me want to vomit whatever contents were in my stomach. The bed creaked with the movement, unable to take withstand it without protest. Cautiously, hesitantly, I swung my feet over the side of the bed. It surprised me to find that I was indeed still wearing pants, only my shirt was missing. I looked down at my chest, seeing the bare skin and bones, (when had my bones become so visible? I could easily count every one of my ribs), there with nothing to hide. It was shameful, defiled skin. But Jou did not know that. Still, I wanted something to cover it up, lest I appear sickly with my wraithlike body. Unfortunately I found no shirt anywhere in the room, Jou had hidden my black one with great care, it seemed. (Actually, the fact that there were no shirts is a lie. I did see a white muscle shirt lying on the ground somewhere near my feet. And it was stained brown around the armpits and neckline with…some grotesque thing, I was sure. So I left it. Although, I suppose that I could have worn that if I really had to.)

I dropped the matter where it was. Jou had already seen my shirtless, apparently. Maybe the sight of me would have no surprises for him.

The floor was cold underneath my feet. It almost felt like wood at first touch because the fibers were so flattened. As soon as I tried to stand, the blankets fell off of me and I shivered as my body temperature fell, sitting back down. Jesus. Was there no heat at all here?

A thought. There probably was not.

Forgetting about the cold, I gathered up enough strength to pull myself up. It took more than one try, but the sobs in the background called to me. They were so…haunting. I knew it had to be Jou making those noises. That thought alone drove me insane.

I wobbled my way across the bedroom and to the slightly ajar door on the other side. When I pushed that aside, (which made, luckily, no sound), I found some light bleeding into the adjacent hallway from the kitchen. The sound, though soft, as I was realizing getting closer to the actual scene, echoed around the slightly empty space.

One foot in front of the other, exactly. My knees seemed unsure of themselves so I refrained from bending them. I made no noise as I walked into the doorway of the kitchen.

Sure enough, there, right in front of me, was a blonde head curled into two open palms. His back was hunched over a ragged, unfinished wooden table, so I could only see the top of his head. But it didn't change the fact that Jou was sitting in front of me in complete and utter despair.

The sobs…they were so light, barely there almost. He was in no way wailing. It made the cries seem delicate and fragile, as if a rough hand could shatter those sobs with one touch, and as if a kind hand could gently brush those very same sobs away with a single caress.

Feeling my heart break, I swallowed and asked in a voice that was as strong as I could attempt, "Jou?"

In a flash the boy's head recoiled upwards, revealing a ruby, tear stained face. He seemed shocked to see me standing there. "S-Seto…" his quivering voice croaked out. His eyes kept me steadily fixed in there for a moment longer, and then he leaned back in his chair and said in a slightly stronger voice. His Japanese was not very good. "Where ya come from alofa sudd'n?"

My hand tilted back behind my head in gesture that showed I came from somewhere in that general region. Daringly, I took a few more steps toward him. I was in such turmoil from having seen him that way that I probably couldn't have said real words.

"Ya'…alright?" he asked. "Ya'…go back ta bed. Can't be here…now…" However his face was telling me something different.

It seemed proper to speak. "I'm fine, Jou. Are you alright?" That was the only important question.

"A'…of course I am." Violently he began rubbing his eyes, trying to wipe the tears from his face. Hide them, more like. "Go, go back to bed. I'm fine."

Nothing could make me believe him. So I moved over and sat down in the chair opposite his on the table and gave him a look with my eyes that said I was not going to leave any time soon.

Jou was slouched in his seat, looking not at all like himself. His bubbly demeanor was missing, there seemed to be something internal dragging him down from the inside out. I longed to destroy that something and save him. But what could I do? I was nothing but a burden to him.

I stared at him, trying to figure out what possible reason there could be for these sobs. Instinct told me it had to do with recent events, but other than Yugi and myself, what could Jou have to cry about?

I leaned my head on my hands. "What's wrong, Jou?" I asked in such a soft voice I had to pray to whatever gods there possibly were that the boy had even heard me.

A yellow raggedy-haired head lifted itself to meet my penetrating gaze. Like I suspected, he was not able to keep that stare for much longer than a minute before he had to look away, (I can be quite passive aggressive when I choose). His eyes were so red they reminded me of separate drops of blood, with a dark and hollow center that was his previously livid iris.

"Nothing. Why…why would anything be…wrong?"

Keeping my gaze steady I replied, "That is such a lie."

He turned around, saturated with anger, and tried to fight me again, failing miserably. "It is not! Nothing's wrong with me, Seto! Just go back to bed." I was acutely aware of the "Seto" in that sentence.

"Liar." My tone was like that of a child.

Jou's weary body fell back down against the chair as the anger in him evaporated. He inhaled mucus through his nose very loudly then said, "Yeah, I guess I am."

"Tell me what upsets you." Honestly, there was nothing he could have said that I would be surprised to hear.

But Jou said something that no one had ever said to me before. With wounded eyes, "I don't want to tell you. You got enough problems of your own without worrying 'bout mine."

That got me. My throat caught and my body tensed. Had he…just said…It was the one thing I had wanted someone—anyone—to say for months. For the entirety of my life, actually.

And it was the one time I hadn't wanted it.

I wanted Jou's problems to be my own. Undoubtedly, I had a lot to deal with, but none of that mattered when I was in the face of that boy. Just being in his presence made it seem like all the evils in my life were lifted out of my mind, leaving me to heal. Why did I feel that way? It didn't make any sense. But I didn't care. I loved the way that felt and I was practically greedy for it, (that's why I could not get him out of my mind). The only thing I wanted more was for me to be the same for Jou.

So, against all my previous wishes, I said to him, "Jou, I don't care about that. Just tell me."

His head shook, causing some hairs to fly away. "I can't."

I knew from experience that Jou could be frustratingly stubborn sometimes. Even though I wanted to know this painful secret of his with every nerve in my body, something told me to wait. That he would tell me eventually when he wanted to. Involuntarily, with this decision came the crushing disappointment that I would be of no help to him now.

With great strength I bit the insides of my lips to keep from speaking again. I dropped the façade of impermeability and looked away. In every respect I was letting Jou have the upper hand in this conversation. And amazingly enough I didn't care.

The both of us remained quiet for what seemed like a lifetime. We were afraid to say anything, or at least I knew that nothing would be sufficient. As much as Jou could help me with my life I was so useless to him.

Just as these thoughts were taking over my other emotions, I heard another sound. Like all the tears that Jou was trying so hard to hold back had just burst through all his defenses. When I looked again the face of my savior was once more contorted in sobs.

Helplessly I watched him cry. Everything within me was drenched in pain. If only I could…

Out of pure instinct I made my next move. Slowly, I reached across the table with one hand. The tips of my fingers brushed back Jou's sweat-soaked bangs, making the barest contact with his skin. At the same time, Jou stopped crying for a moment, surprised at the touch.

His face raised and I saw the pain there, unhidden, in its natural, purest form. I did not drop my hand. It remained there stroking his heated, sweaty forehead until he finally pulled back, away from the touch.

Neither of us made like we were going to say anything. But Jou looked so strange. His face was a mixture of raw pain, confusion, hesitation, and some small hint of gratitude. For what? I didn't know.

The chest on sufferer in front of me began moving up and down in rapid succession. I just watched, unsure of what his emotions were.

How long would it be before we moved? I was growing tired of this constant wordless confrontation. There had to be some way to get Jou to talk. Then I began thinking…what always worked? What had life taught me?

I moved to stand up. Through my peripheral vision I saw Jou tense slightly but remain in the same hunched position. At first the dizziness returned but it soon evaporated as I ignored it and moved over to the side of the table where Jou sat.

His eyes watched me all the way. I stared back at him, willing my emotions to reach him through some sort of telepathic link. When I reached him, I stood before his vision. Now it was my turn to be the one with nothing to hide. If my bare chest frightened him at all he made no move to show it. But his eyes did wander all over my form.

I let it happen. Whatever Jou was feeling right now needed to be gone. As soon as possible. I didn't care about all my previous thoughts, of what I had remembered the night at the bar while I got drunk to escape from my problems. I didn't need sake or any cheap thrill to help me escape. I escaped through Jou.

Cautiously, so he knew what I was doing, I raised my right hand and ran it through his golden locks slowly. His eyes closed against the touch. Moving quickly I closed the distance between us, pulling his form against mine and resting his soft head on my bare stomach.

The moment after this happened it was like something hanging in the air broke. Both of us sighed in unison. We leaned into each other to get more contact.

Words poured out. "Jou…" I sighed breathlessly, running my hands up and down his back.

The sobs came more frequently now, they were louder, uglier coming from Jou. My chest felt wet with the tears he spilled all over me. I barely noticed. "Seto…" he moaned into my skin.

"Jou, you mean…so much to me…" I didn't know why was saying this. But I did not take the time to consider it. Jou needed to know this, everything I felt within me needed to get out. I felt like I would crumble if he went one more second without knowing this. And I did not even know what "this" was. I guess it was me. "Please…tell me…"

He continued to sob into my chest. Now the words poured out of him. "I can't take dis…life…My mother is…dying…the docs say she won't last the month. But she lives in America. I…can't…go…I can't…be with my sister…Mom means so much to her…I can't be with her…I can't…I…can't…" So his sweet sister needed him and he could not go to her. That explained a lot. I listened on. He was not done at all.

"…and…" Here he looked up at me. "I…you…I…can't…get over you…"

I ran my hand down his face. He needed help just as much as I did. Forgetting any sense of pride Kaiba Seto might have had at any time, (for I really wasn't that man anymore), I dropped to my knees on the floor and rubbed my face against the top of his head. Into his greasy, matted, coarse hair I muttered, "You are my escape. Please. Don't get over me. Don't leave me. I…need you…" I squeezed my eyes closed to bar against the sudden blinding pain that rose up from my core. "There's no reason for me to live without you."

Through all the tears, Jou managed to choke out a laugh. A small chuckle, actually. "What are ya' talkin' about? Ya' gotcha brother and ya' company…why do ya' need me?"

"Iie, Jou. I don't have anything. My company is failing rapidly, my brother doesn't trust me, I can't help Yugi…and…" These were my problems. They ejected themselves from me faster than I could say them, like a hot spring I bubbled over with them. But could I admit the last one? Did I have the strength to stop it?

No amount of internal strength could have stopped me. "A man I work with. He's a CEO, like me. Every week, I let him…take me…as long as he pays me. But he doesn't pay me. He doesn't…do anything for me…he hangs threats over my head, blackmailing me with everything I fear. But…I…do not have the power to stop him. Not anymore. He controls me…and…I can't defend…I'm not strong. I'm weak, a weakling that cannot protect himself. A dirty whore. "

Suddenly I felt the back of my throat deflate; the lump began lessening until…it was suddenly gone. The ache within me…it was…ebbing away. The hot spring of emotion was falling back down into its cavern. I felt an inexplicable…something.

Release. That was the something.

Suddenly the uniqueness of the situation left. My mind was teleported directly back into my skull as it was before I started touching Jou. The end of the ecstasy.

Like the last time Jou and I had been so close to each other, I was left feeling different. There was no direct pain languishing in my chest cavity as there usually was. Of course I could feel it hiding beneath the surface, but it was hidden so deeply I barely even noticed its presence.

This feeling was so wonderful, it shocked me. I had never expected to be able to feel like this ever again after that first night with Toshokama. It almost didn't occur to me that the current person wrapped in my arms had just heard the darkest secret of my present life.

He wasn't crying anymore. My eyes were open, my vision clouded by the yellow strands of hair surrounding them. Slowly, I lifted my face off of him and looked down at the actual form of the catalyst of my intense emotion. His eyes looked up at me, no longer contorted in pain, no longer crying, his face had actually turned paler than the blood red it had been. And the look in his eyes…

Shock.

Immediately upon seeing that one look, I retreated. The previous minutes had been me flinging myself out in the open, defenseless, begging for this boy's acceptance. And he had rejected me.

My arms shrank back to my sides as if he had been made of flame. I found myself unable to look him in the eye, the moment had been broken. Even though Jou had stolen my most intense hurt, he was creating another type with his indifference. But I could not let him see it. I had exposed myself too much as it already was.

I spun on my heels, showing only my back to him, and said, "I should be leaving. I will not be anymore of a burden on you."

Mechanically, my feet carried me to the bedroom, looking for something to throw over my naked torso. I searched through all his drawers, taking extra care not to disturb any of the clothing piles, (heaps), Jou had created. But the clothing was in such disarray I found that I could not separate one garment from another. They were all hopelessly tangled in one another it seemed as though none of them had a beginning or an end.

From the kitchen I heard Jou get to his feet and call, "Seto!"

Damn. Running out of time. This drawer was not helping me. With great force I slammed it shut and moved around to the closet on the left side of the room.

Jou was in the room behind me. "Seto, wait…stop, don't leave, just calm down…"

I moved away from the closet. I could not be near him. Could not let him…touch me again. Defile his hands with what I was.

I made a snap decision: Fuck the shirt. Let the public see some skin, it would give the newspapers something to write about the next day. I evaded Jou and moved straight to front door, (it was in the same corridor as the kitchen, I just had to follow that through). Jou ran to keep up with me.

"Seto, stop damn it! Seto!"

My hand was on the doorknob. Oh, fucking hell, why was it locked?

Suddenly I felt his hands on the bare skin of my shoulders. Those rough-skinned hands that meant so much to me…I stopped moving involuntarily. The touch was not at all violent. In fact, it was almost a caress.

Slowly I felt him lean into me, his front pressed against my back. Another automatic reaction: I closed my eyes. His soft voice, (suddenly light as compared to his previous heaviness), whispered into my ear, "It's alright."

It was alright? How in the hell could it be alright? Despite the begging of my body to lean into his touch as we had just done, I forced myself to remain rigid. I did not deserve his love, how could he stand to touch this…thing?

I pried my eyes open. "Save your pity, Jou. I don't need it."

"It's not pity. You know that, don't you?"

It had to be pity. Or something like that. "Don't waste your good will on me Jou. Let me go."

"Hmm…" He pretended to be thinking deeply about the proposal. "Uh, no."

I felt the old stubborn in him again. Oh well. I could be stubborn, too. "Let go."

"No."

"Let go, Jou."

"Nope."

"I said, 'Let go'."

"Don't care."

"Stop this foolishness and let go of me."

"Nuh-uh."

"Jou let go."

"No, I don't think I will…" Then he did something that was like cheating. He slid his hands from my shoulders all the way down my back to my kidneys, causing me to shiver where I stood. This of course left me open to an attack which Jou took full advantage of by turning my around with one arm. He looked at me for a moment with a look of smug triumph on his face right before he kissed me fully on the lips.

The lips of Katsuya…so soft…so delicate…his tongue mixing with mine, so easily, so freely. The joy…so fleeting.

He broke away from me only after I was completely at his will. "Seto…I can't believe you told me that…what you just told me."

I lowered my head in shame. Like an obedient dog.

Coarse fingertips touched the bottom of my chin and lifted my head up to face him. "But I'm glad you did."

Before I had a chance to digest that, I was pulled into a hug. "I'm not gonna leave you Seto. You don't have to worry about that."

Currently in my state of obedience, I had nothing else to say other than, "You won't?"

"Of course not." Jou leaned out of the hug and looked me in the face. I drank in his forgiving features thirstily. But I didn't have much time to satisfy myself before Katsuya locked my lips into another kiss, this one much more heated than the last. I readily welcomed the familiar taste of his saliva.

We remained there in front of the door for a period of time. I wish I remembered if it was long or short, but I really do not. All I remember is the taste of him and what I felt, a gigantic mass of emotions that took me all kinds of places. None of them places I did not want to be.

I don't remember there being a time when we readily decided to stop kissing, but we must have been because the next thing I fully recollect after that is sitting on the floor in Jou's lap, his arms wrapped around my figure protectively. I think I have a distinct word for what it felt like, as well.

Comfort.

A/N: Wow, what a short chapter. I think it's about five pages shorter than my last, but I had a lot more to say then. When I started writing this chapter, I really did not plan on writing any actual romance scenes in it. I planned on drawing it out for a few more chapters. But that's just not what happened when I set pen to paper, (or fingers to keys, as it is, I suppose). Sorry if anyone thought it was OOC, maybe it was. But I did my best with it, if that's not good enough I give you permission to crucify me—just as long as you leave the story alone. (Take me not my story.)

I hope you guys noticed some of the dream sequence I added. Ugh I think I'm giving too much away here…it was not supposed to be that obvious…oh well. If anyone figures it out then you figure it out. (gives props) And, yes, Seto and Jou do have a roller coaster relationship, their emotions peak to highest intensity and then drop to annoyance in a matter of minutes. But that's a good part of the SxJ pairing, I think. What do you think of it? I'm not sure about it.

Sorry I'm not that livid in this post-chapter notes section. You see my grandmother died last night I'm actually in a state of semi-disarray myself. But it was good to write.

Review if you deem this chapter worthy enough. I look forward to reading your comments, as always.


	9. Pulling Out the Sutures

Hello, everyone! I know it's been a while. Three-ish months? (cries tears of sorrow and self-hate) I missed you guys! I missed the characters in this story, as well. I'm sorry for the sad state I left it in. It's my entire fault. Suffice to say…I needed a break. Not the story's fault, my own. There hasn't really been much time to live all that much in the past few months. You must forgive. Find it in your hearts!

If any of you are fond of gemshipping, I wrote a story about a month ago dedicated to one of my dear friends that features this pairing. It's there and it's all I have to offer in my past three months of elusiveness/absence.

Anyway, this chapter is poorly written. I'm sorry to give you such slop after making you wait for so long. There's a lime halfway through. Enjoy! Lol, I just thought I should warn certain readers. Heh. Go ahead and read for yourselves.

**_Warning:_** Explicit yaoi, mentions of rape, violence, blood, child abuse, extreme language…the list goes on. Please turn away now all those not prepared for the content of this story. I beg of you!

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh or _Sin City_.

**Chapter Nine: Pulling Out the Sutures**

Sleep was inevitable after that time I spent in Jou's arms. The emotions and revelations of the night had left us exhausted. More had been said in only a few hours than had ever been said in my entire life. I am sure the same was true for Jou.

No words were needed as we sat in the hallway. The front door stared us down, taunting us with unspoken reminders of the unforgiving world outside that foul-smelling apartment. We fought off those taunts with each other's arms. Every few minutes, I would feel Jou squeeze me tightly and then release shortly after. I knew what was meant by that squeeze, though I cannot explain it in words. My response to that momentary hug would be another one, fiercer than his for reassurance. Those hugs made us brave against the door.

Bravery. It was a fairly new thing for me of late. When had I ever been brave? Maybe more than I realized, (much more, as it actually was). Well, when had I ever felt brave? Not for a long while.

We lay there. Quite some time passed. The clock on the wall flicked off many minutes, (hours, I guess), that passed in a particular hazy uncertainty. At first I felt I was asleep, and then I would feel Jou squeezing me tightly. _Alright, I suppose that means I am awake._ But nothing seemed clear. I have to admit, this haze was soothing to me. I did not know why it was so relaxing to loose control, but I did not give it much thought. The peace was there. Forget why it was there. Maybe I felt…absolved. The forgiving, accepting gaze of my companion had absolved my failings, my weaknesses. Now I felt brave, lo and behold. Brave and calm. Calm and brave. Those two words lodged in my mind and refused to disentangle themselves.

I cannot remember distinctly falling asleep, (does anyone?), but I knew that I had left Jou's embrace when a recognizable feeling of dread suffused my comforted being.

Brave and calm. Calm and…brave, yes…brave…and calm…peace, and strength…calm and brave.

Cold. It was very cold in here…in this apartment, suddenly. Where was the warmth of the protective arms around me? What had happened to the grip of my absolver?

Brave and…calm. Calm and…brave?

Brave…calm…

A harsh push to my left side. Pain shoots through me. My lungs…I gasp for breath.

_"Wake up, Seto. Now. Wake up!" _

_Another push from the persistent hand. Just let me breathe…I cough for a while, eyes fully open now and staring at the hands used to catch my coughs. These hands are marked with something…bruises protrude from the ends of the sleeves on my wrists. This is a common sight. I ignore it. _

_"Look at me Seto," he says, after a few moments of letting me breathe. _

_My head turns hesitantly up towards his voice. The face of my stepfather comes into view harshly, fully in focus but making something internal loosen increasingly until it finally detaches itself from me, leaving me bare with fear. What is that something? _

_"Seto, I have an assignment for you." My mind questions this, but I dare not speak. What kind of assignment? "It is an important assignment, Seto. One that I am entrusting to you out of faith in your competence. Can you handle it?" _

_Without even knowing what it entails, I know how I must answer. "Hai, Otōsan." _

_He nods, eyes never leaving my face. "There is a man I would rather like you to meet, Seto. His name is Katsumoto-san. He is a business partner of mine, very important. Of course this concerns you. Everything that has to do with the company concerns you. But you understand that, ne?" _

_"Hai, Otōsan." Katsumoto-san…I have heard the name around the offices of Kaiba Corp. lately. Everyone has been talking about him. Briefly I am excited to be part of my stepfather's business, but I soon realize that it will hardly be to my liking. _

_"Good. You see, Seto…this man has recently decided to indulge in high expenditures from his to company Kaiba Corp. Do you know what this means?"_

"_I do, Otōsan." _

"_Excellent. Now, it is a large amount of money. Very large indeed. Unfortunately, well…naturally, I suppose…" His head shifts in thought for a moment. I wait. "All this money comes at a price." Violently, he brings his gaze back to mine. Involuntarily, I flinch. Prepared. "Come to my office." _

_It seems as if we're teleported because suddenly he is sitting behind his desk saying, "The price, Seto, is something comprehensible in the least. But it is something you must do, Musuko." He uses my title to end his sentence: "Son". He binds me to him. _

"_You see," leaning back in his chair he continues. "Anything valuable comes at a price. If you want something, you pay a price. Now let me ask you: You would do anything for this company, Kaiba Corporations, which is mine but will come into your possession in the event of my death. Is that correct?" _

_Without even thinking I answer, "Hai, Otōsan." There is no question of whether I do or not. I just do. I have not even asked myself that question, really. I just do. _

"_Of course. So you are willing to pay the price—any price, whatever may be asked of you—for this company's welfare. Hai?" _

"_Hai, Otōsan." Again. _

"_It goes without saying. Here is your assignment. You will meet with Katsumoto-san. Privately. In this meeting you will do whatever he asks of you." His face darkens with a menace I know all too well. I find that my throat is dry. With eyes glinting ferociously, he asks, "Do you understand what this means, Seto?" _

_I stare at him blankly. I do. Whatever he asks I will do. There is no question of it. My stepfather has asked it of me and I will do as he asks. Especially with his face as dark as that…I lower my head, unable to bear the burden of witnessing him strangle me without his hands. I accept my shame and my fear. _

"_You will. Tomorrow night you will go to one of our guest rooms. A woman will be there to instruct you as to what you need to do. I think it will be fairly self-explanatory. Then she will leave. You will meet with Katsumoto-san and you will meet his every need. Do you understand? Your entire assignment rests on pleasing this man. Whatever he asks of you. Is that in any way unclear?" Every word is laced with venom. My wrists gleam purple underneath the shirt fabric. Tasteful purple, my stepfather has called it. So different from the luscious red he has introduced me to, as well…I understand all of this._

"_Iie, Otōsan." My head remains down. _

"_Look at me." No, please…don't make me… "Now, Seto." _

_Gingerly, my vision rises to meet his. Shivers escape across my bruised flesh. But he looks pleased, if slightly bored and annoyed. _

"_You must do as I say. It is for the good of the company, Seto. Nothing else matters."_

_I stare at him. _

"_Do you understand, Seto?"_

_I shake my head no. _

_A loud smack on the desk, he looks at me again. "Do you understand, Seto?" _

_A small flinch, but then I nod vigorously. "Hai, Otōsan." _

"_Very well. You are dismissed."_

I am in the room again. I'm in a bed. So cold…so cold…I can see my breath as I pant in and out. I've been here before. But where am I? It's so dark…maroon walls and a black ceiling. A portrait of a man hanging on one of the walls. I know him, I know his features. This amber-eyed man in his fifties. I've seen him before, around the offices of Kaiba Corp. His name is Katsumoto-san.

The door in front of my eyes. The light behind it seeps in through the cracks, reminding me of the cold woman I met earlier. She told me what I needed to do and set me up in here, exactly as I am now. She was bitter and remote, her eyes like a frozen wasteland that had long ago lost all signs of life, piercing my heart with gloom. Every move she made had force behind it. Just before she left, the woman slapped my face. I do not know why. But the mark stings my cheek

The wind passes through an open window. Suddenly my skin is covered with goose-bumps and frost. I should shut that window…but I can't.

Tears form in the lids of my eyes. I'm so scared I'm dizzy. My panting begins to come out shaky. I can't breathe and I can't…That woman trapped me in here, locking the door.

I look down at myself and gasp. I'm naked and my wrists are chained to the bed post. I look around frantically. This is a bedroom…and I lay here…on the bed. Trapped.

I think I remember why I'm here…

Gozaburo said…he said… "_You must do whatever he asks…It is for the good of the company Seto. Nothing else matters." _

Nothing else but the footsteps down the hallway. Keys jingle and the then the doorknob turns, revealing a man. He enters slowly, the entire front of him illuminated by the light. A contradiction of normality. Light shadowing darkness? I know him…I know him…he frightens me. If only I could forget why I am here.

His yellow eyes glow in the darkness. I watch helplessly as they stroll down my naked body, feasting on what he sees there as I was his first, (or last, though I have a feeling that I am neither), meal. Suddenly I feel like a piece of meat sautéed on a dinner platter. Is this what Gozaburo meant for me? Am I to be eaten by this…carnivorous man?

He slips off his robe. Immediately everything is clear to me. I try to plead but all that comes out is a whimper or a breathy sigh.

"Shh…" he says, like a father consoling his son. "Don't cry, Seto." He knows my name? I suppose Gozaburo told him that, as well.

Internally, I am screaming as loud as I possibly can, choking on my own screams.

"Stop, please…onegai, please stop…"

"It's alright. I'm not going to hurt you." He has the ability to look right into my eyes as he says this. Maybe it's the likeness of a wolf in those unforgiving eyes that traps me so much. But suddenly I find myself unable to do anything but lie there as he uses me.

Pain…cold…pain…it hurts, "Shh, don't cry." Pain…Suddenly he is a wolf, ripping my throat apart…

Toshokama stands in the background. Fear freezes my heart. Suddenly I am not a child anymore, no longer twelve but now nineteen. My adult self squirms as the wolf gorges himself on my living sinews.

"Get up, whore," Toshokama says. He begins to laugh at me, an evil laugh that reverberates around his office. I choke on the cigar smoke, gasping for breath, the pain…the wolf…the men…the—

"SETO!"

The scream burst through my eardrums, startling my out of the dream as quickly as I had entered. I felt the cold floor beneath me and warm flesh gripping my shoulders painfully in contrast. Nothing came into focus after a few minutes and my skull started to feel like it was being bashed against a wall.

Damn. It was.

I yanked myself out of Jou's vice-like grip, anything to stop him from shaking me into an early grave. "What the hell is your problem?" I shouted, sitting in a crab-like position several feet away from him. The emotions from the dream still tingled within my nerve-endings; my mind feels as though it is unable to detach from that place. If only I could beg it to reconsider.

The shirtless, unstable form of Jou twirled in my confused sight. He stood above me, face contorted in fear and desperation, hands still poised for the onslaught. It took him a few full seconds before he closed his jaw and reacted.

As I held my head, fragments from the dream raced through my thoughts. Amazingly, I could remember everything that had happened. Gozaburo, Katsumoto, Toshokama…the men that ruled my life.

Ruled my life? If only there was some way to revoke this horrible assumption. My severely damaged pride seemed to push away the thought fruitlessly. The message stayed.

In my confusion and shame, I felt Jou kneel down beside me. He was still reeling from his display of violence, but he put a hand on my back soothingly. Yet again his unlikely grace surprised me.

"Seto…" he whispered softly into my ear. "You were sleeping. Dreaming, I guess. I heard you screaming from the other room—you scared the fuck out of me, Seto, I—.."

His hand stroked the bare skin on my back. I shivered. Damn it all. Jou was another of those who I let, (well…let, I guess, is the proper word), rule me. "I was…screaming?" my mouth asked. There had to have been some separation between my mouth, my body and my mind because all three were gravitating in different directions. I had no way of combining them at the moment.

"Hai. You kept sayin', 'Onegai, onegai…please, please stop…' over and over again. I didn' know what to do, so I just started shaking you. You wouldn't wake up, so…" His voice trailed off but his hand remained in motion.

I could understand why Jou panicked. It must have been odd, hearing me in such a way. And I, the one supposed to be strong. How pathetic. "Gomen," I mumbled. Jou did not deserve to be rattled by my nightmares, especially since I had dreamt of something so personal…something recurring.

_So that's it, then,_ I thought. The secret of my nightmares had been revealed. (My mind was still working on a different plane than either my body, which twitched underneath Jou's light touch, or my mouth, which mumbled apologies of things beyond my control.) Katsumoto had managed to transverse the nightmarish world of my waking hours into my dreams. I am not going to deny that he had been there for quite some time, ever since the age of twelve, really, like some sort of defiant dictator, policing my thoughts and my disobedient emotions. My emotions were always so out of control when I thought about him. It disgusted me that just the very mention of his name could send my spiraling into weeks of disgruntled nightmares. But it was a fact of my life that I had to live with. The fact that the wolfish gentleman would always lurk on the borderline of my life's exterior. Just out of reach for every day and still completely ready to formulate at exactly the right moment. That was Katsumoto. If only I could forget the name…

Damn it all. I shut my eyes, reminiscing that I should have figured it out sooner. When had the dreams started? Right after Mokuba mentioned Katsumoto blatantly in the car the afternoon we saw that abject film _Sin City_…he thought that man could help me with business. Sure. He founded a company that had become a major business conglomerate and retired at the age of sixty, three years after I first met him. Gozaburo had prematurely decided to name him one of the company's most direct sponsors, (apparently the resulting money from my meeting with him proved satisfactory). Even after my stepfather's death, Katsumoto continued to send us money. He completely disregarded every one of my attempts to stop the money flow. Every month, I found another check in the mail especially from him. Did he think that was his little way to repay me for what he did? Did he think that that made it alright, just business? I despised the thought of his self-justification and burned all the checks.

Except for the last three. I needed the last three…the last three were for my company, for the good of the—

Damn it all.

I rested my head in my hands. The sensation of drowning descended over me. I now had the presence of Katsumoto to haunt me. Sure, there were ways of dealing with it; ways that I had devised over the years to keep myself from completely losing my mind. Would they still work when I was making the same deals with another man—this time of my own volition? Iie. I could not think of a reason why they should.

"Hey…"

I jumped. Jou's mouth had been right next to my ear, and my mind had long since been discarded.

"Hey, relax. It's just me, right. And ya' don' have to apologize or nothing…" He gave me a strange look. I stared into his eyes, warm and inviting despite everything. His head was tilted to one side, as if trying to make up his mind about me.

"Nani?" I asked, curious myself as to what went through his mind.

Without warning, Jou stood straight up, startling me yet again. "Come on; get off the floor, at least."

Right. For the first time since waking, I looked around at where I was. Jou had not moved me from the floor, only now we were very much away from the door and into the middle of his corridor. I might as well stand up. Embarrassment flushed my cheeks, though I did not know why. Only a second ago, Jou had been in the same position.

I moved to stand on my own, but Jou grabbed my wrists. "Come on," he encouraged and dragged me to my feet. As soon as we stood at the same height things became slightly awkward. We both knew so much about each other, and yet here I was lying on the floor screaming over some dream Jou knew nothing about.

Yet again, the enthusiastic boy seemed unaffected by the coating of unease settling upon us. He placed a hand on my cheek—almost casually, I noted with shock—and asked, "Were you dreaming of him?"

I said nothing but let his hand explore my face. His delectable fingers applied yielding amounts of pressure to my cheekbones, barely existent touch, and then moved to my forehead. My eyes closed naturally as he felt around the area, testing the depth of the flesh with small pressure. My mouth, (now somewhat connected to my brain which was fried beyond a point of reason), remained frozen by the actions of this hand.

"That guy that rapes you?" If he had known that I was utterly incapable of speech he would have saved himself the breath. Like a piece of ice slowly melting in obscure tendrils of sunlight, my body stood fixated to the floor. Motionless.

"You were, weren't you?"

I wanted to respond, but his hand continued on its path towards my lips. The softness of his fingertips played with the loose flesh there. Without conscious command from my sizzling mind, I administered a kiss to those fingertips as they moved.

The hand stopped. His thin, puppyish face gave me another odd glance. Not another word was needed before our faces met in a quiet kiss. I tasted his supple lips again, for what must have been the fourth time—not that I counted or anything, of course. We stayed there, compressed together by our bodies' entrances, for a little while. I remained very still so the kiss never progressed to anything beyond minimal contact. It was enough.

When the contact became dangerous to our breathing, we separated. "Tell me…" Jou whispered into my face.

_Do not tell him, Seto. Do you want him to know what you are?_

He already knows.

_Do you want him to know more? Do you want him to know what your stepfather made of you? Do you want to be left? He will leave you, Seto. _

Somehow…I could not believe that. Perhaps this was some ulterior instinct that I retained about love, (if there were any such things in the first place, which I doubt). But there was no way that my precious liberator—forgiving though he might have been—needed to know about my childhood. I had not told anyone, not one living soul, about that nor would I ever. Some things, regardless what Yugi will tell you, belong deep in the past.

My lips stirred to life. "Hai, but…" My hands wrapped around his waist. "It was only a dream." I wanted to distract him with physical contact. It had worked with ever other human I knew, why not Jou?

Jou willing leaned into the touch, a contented expression fixated on his face, but he still continued to pry. He could do that? Enjoy the touch and still ask questions? No one else I knew could accomplish such a thing…damn that mutt. And yet still, even as he moved spryly between my arms—obviously happy for the attention—I could not help but want to complete him…to kiss him again and again until that smile stayed permanently on those boyish, glossy features.

"But it bothered ya'…" he pointed out, curling up against my chest. "So it must have been worth a damn." He moved his head to stare me in the face. "Tell me. It's ok."

Those eyes…those soft, appeasing, forgiving eyes…they conveyed so much meaning in just a small flick of attention…welcoming me, inviting me to give myself to him…could I deny those eyes? My gut wrenched at the idea of opposing those eyes…and the hands running across my back, again…but my mind screamed at the notion of telling him the truth.

_Forget it, Seto. The truth is something he does not need nor want, really…he doesn't know what he's getting himself into by asking for the truth. Do you really want to frighten him? Drive him away by giving him something he doesn't want? _

Of course the answer was no.

"Jou…" I whispered, moving closer to his ear. "Dreams are only visions of the past." My heart skipped a beat. Was that giving away too much? My pulse quickened…did he…could he figure everything out from those bare words? I continued speaking, mentally adding ice to my veins to keep the temperature reasonable. "They do not bother me."

I leaned back from his ear. His eyes portrayed a glazed expression, telling me that I had lulled him into a relaxed state. Finally, success with the pup. I found it strange how I consistently failed when I was with him and overly enjoyable when I finally grasped rare success. It should not matter whether or not I won with Jou…but it did in some weird way. Forget that, as well. My obsession with winning was a different matter entirely.

When Jou realized I was no longer speaking to him, he awoke from his trance, though the fog did not quite leave his eyes. Did I detect a small hint of blush grazing his prominent cheekbones, set apart from the rest of his face by a curve of starvation hollows in his cheek? That empty space portrayed so much about him, his hardship, the starkness of his suffering despite his desperate attempts to hide it, and now his embarrassment.

"Oh…uh, right…I guess, they are…umm, what…you…just dreams, right." Not even a sentence. The rueful joy of winning swarmed me; I gave a small smirk which Jou did not see. At least I exhibited the same control over him which he had over me. Equity, I say, is what gives life a point. Hai, I know I am a hypocrite. But…somehow that was alright in the presence of Katsuya-chan, (I had earned the right to add the "chan" suffix at the end of his name).

"Good," I responded, leaning back in the embrace to stare at him fully. "Now, what time is it?"

"Uh…it's uh…" Jou broke out of the hug to check the kitchen clock. One problem solved. "Almost ten in the morning" came the call from inside the kitchen doorway. "It's still early."

"Early?" I raised an eyebrow, entering the room where hearts had been spilled only scant hours before. "You call ten o'clock early?"

Jou threw a glance over his shoulder. "Uh, yeah. It definitely isn' late…" His figure moved towards the sink to wash his hands. I could not believe my vision; the infamously dirty Katsuya actually advocated something as meaningless as hand-washing? Impossible. I decided not to remark on it, though. Why not enjoy the cleanliness while I could?

"Jonouchi…" I sighed, pulling up a chair to sit in. "Three o'clock in the morning is early. Ten o'clock is midday." Interesting conversation we had sparked. Was this…normality? It felt normal, although there was something in the corner of our speech. Something hiding behind the words coming out of our mouths. We were both still unsure of ourselves. And yet…that was alright because…we were with each other.

"Mid frickin' day? Oh, hell, you business freaks are crazy…" A hand yanked on the faucet handle, already poised for the water flow. Nothing happened. "Ah, nuts! Don' tell me…o kudasai…" (please)

"What's wrong, Jou?" Had the faucet broken? It must have been something like that…what else explained the fact of Jou crawling on his knees to search underneath the sink?

Muffled words responded.

"I cannot hear you, mutt…" I sighed. His character was somewhat…charming…even if a little stupid…

He crawled out of the cabinet. "I think the goddamn landlord cut our water again, dammit it all to hell…"

"Cut your water? Were you paying the bill for it?"

Sitting cross-legged, Jou swerved to meet my vision. "Of course I was! Just not as much as the damn guy wanted."

"You have debt, Jou?" My eyes narrowed.

Silence. Then, "It isn't debt! It's just…I don' have the money at this exact point in time. But I promised the guy I would! Eventually."

I stared at him. "That's also known as debt, mutt."

"Don't call me mutt. And so what? I need water, dammit!"

Again, heavy sigh. "Legally, he does not have the obligation to give you your much needed water if you do not pay him the utility bill."

"Whose side are ya' on?" He bellowed.

"Yours, of course. Just pay the man and be done with it."

"You think I have the money for that kind of shit?"

"It's called living, Jou." I knew all too well the cost of living with my recent brush of slight poverty. The boy sitting rigidly in front of me probably knew better than I did.

"Well, I don't have it!" He stood up and tramped to the phone. "Damn guy…cutting my water, fourth time this year…"

"Jou, you can argue with him, but I promise you…"

Too late. Jou had the phone against his ear. "Moshi moshi? … Ya' cut my water again! … But I told ya' I'd have it by next month! … Iie, that is so not what I said last month and the month before! …"

"Hang up the phone," I prompted from the sidelines. He was making somewhat of a fool out of himself.

Suddenly, Jou's expression took a different turn. He went from mad to snow white in all of five minutes. "Wait, wha' did ya'… he's here? … He just went up the stairs … Did he look plastered … Iie, I—.."

Before that particular sentence fragment received incorrect punctuation, I heard a distinct rumbling from outside the apartment. I frowned. This was probably the "he" Jou and the landlord spoke about. Who was "he"? I remained seated, if only a little more cautious.

Jou hung up the phone as quickly as he could. "Get out," he said in a voice entirely different from the relaxed tone he used with me earlier. "Get out, now!"

"What are you talking about?" I asked.

"You have to get out!" His hazelnut eyes were wide with fear, chasing me out of the room with a non-vocal power beyond my comprehension. I found myself standing straight up, ready to murder the man that caused Jonouchi so much hardship.

"Jou, tell me who he is." The thumping became louder. Humanly noises followed the bumps, (grumbles, the sound of heavy breathing, as well as other things I could not identify).

My lovely protector was standing before me with a frightened—iie, not frightened. He was terrified. Eyes looked as though they would burst at any moment, hands tense and bony, adjacent to his body as they clenched and unclenched to prove a point. Every slick muscle in his broad form rippled with the adrenaline of the moment. I watched, fixated, even as he screamed in a whisper, "No time. Get in the other room! If he finds you here we're both dead."

His words jolted me to reality. I could put two and two together easily if I tried. "Jou," I said, even as he pushed me forcibly into his messy bedroom with noticeable strength. "Is this your father?"

Scared eyes met mine in a flash. "Just hide…I'll be alright, just…"

"Jou, I'm not going to leave you with him, I know what he does to you—.." The thumps reached the door. The knob jingled and came to life with some rustling of a shaky hand equipped with keys.

"Shit, he found the keys…Just hide, Seto!" I was pushed into the room, the wooden door slammed in my face at exactly the same time another door opened directly across the corridor.

What choice did I have but to remain where Jou had placed me? The sounds from outside were all too real. I listened—ear pressed against the door—with a pained, tearing heart to what my Jou was subjected to every day of his life.

The door creaked open and the grumbles became audible, as did the groaning floor boards as they supported the man's substantial weight. "Hey, Pop," Jou said in English with surprising casualness. I guessed "Pop" meant "Dad" in his language.

"What are you up to, kid?" The voice sounded like the grating of a broken car engine as it strains to produce the same noises it once did, command the same usefulness it once had, but ultimately fails nonetheless. I listened to this man as he failed to obtain the normal fatherly tone a sober man would take. The sake—or perhaps it was American beer—rang in every syllable of his voice. I had an unmistakable feeling that his voice was like this even when he was not drunk, that he had just acquired this tine through years of drunkenness and knew no other way to speak.

Why did this voice remind me of Jou? The accent? The relationship? The genes? My mind could not understand the connection. So, instead of fighting the thoughts, I listened helplessly behind the door.

"Nothing," I heard him move away from the door slowly, walking out into the unsafe territory. It was as if we were physically tethered together; with every step he took farther away from me I felt myself long for him increasingly, the strain of our bonds tugging mercilessly on my stomach. "It's early…you want some breakfast?"

They both spoke fluent English. Some words were difficult to make out. "Breakfast?" He said something I could not translate. "Is there anything to eat in this shithole?"

" 'Course there is. I went shopping just the other day, damn it!" I was shocked over the liberal tone Jou took with his father. There was a clear lack of respect in that voice.

"The other day? What the hell day was that?"

"I dunno…some day, to hell if I know." In a sick way, father and son almost sounded alike.

The sound of cabinet slamming reached my ears. They were walking around in the kitchen, I guessed. A low belch escaped Jonouchi Sr. If I had not already decided to hate him I did at that moment in time.

"There's no food in here!" He shouted angrily.

"It's right in front of you!" Something that sounded like delicate silverware clunked on the table. A chair scraped across the floor.

If only I could see them…my mind could conjure no explanation for my desire to see them, but I could identify with the need for visual reassurance. What exactly did this man look like?

"Tastes like dirt!" Some chewing sounds coupled with a full mouth. "You make me eat this?"

"You could starve, ya' know."

"The hell you get off treating your old man like that?"

"It's the truth, Pop."

The same word I did not know. Then, "Think of all I do for you…I deserve better than this."

I could tell Jou bit back the response to that remark. Definitely a good idea. As long as Jou was acting with intelligence, I concluded that I did not need to as my hand slowly turned the door knob. It opened just a crack, just enough to see into the kitchen.

A portly man sat at the table, his profile directly in my line of sight. He looked in his late thirties, American, faded blonde and balding. Either he had a bout of roseate or he had extremely high blood pressure because a stark redness stained both his cheeks and it looked permanent. An overweight stomach spilled over his dirt-encrusted blue jeans from underneath the sweaty orange t-shirt he wore. The sight of him more or less measured up to how my mind pictured him, ever since the conversation I overheard with Yugi. It was the sight of Jou that unnerved me. He stood above his father completely rigid but also completely…causal. His father looked like he almost did not bother him, though I know better. Fear hid underneath his surface, pumping through his veins like sour venom, filling his precious body with toxin.

My Jou…

This man had absolutely no right to do this to my Jou. Absolutely none. My hands tightened around the doorknob in fury, white with rage.

"Just eat the food."

A few moments passed. It seemed as if my thoughts were suspended in the purely primal hate enveloping my mind. I could not think about anything other than that, (which was fortunate because I might have lost the will of anger if I had).

When the food was gone, the fat man turned to his son and demanded, "I'm thirsty. Get me glass of water from the sink."

Finality. Jou turned another shade of white.

"There's…uh…there's uh…" Was he really going to confess to the lack of water in their living space? I found that a stupid idea. But then, what else could he do?

"Spit it out…"

Jou shifted his weight from one foot to the other and ran a hand through his hair. I had seen him do that before. Was it some kind of reassuring tick he owned? Immediately I found myself attached to that hand. Its movement had a…maddening affect on me.

"Well, uh…like, you haven't been going to work lately, and I've been really busy so…I honestly don't know what you expect." He was avoiding the question. I wondered how long that would work.

"What are you sayin'?" The man shifted in his seat to turn sloppily in front of his son.

The younger blonde swiftly turned to the sink and thrust the faucet in a way that should have gushed water through the spout. Nothing. "There ain't no water. Landlord cut it again."

"Goddammit!" the fatter man slurred. A line of saliva flew from his mouth in the process.

"Look, we're not paying the damn bills! Legally, he doesn't really have to give us money from the utility we're not paying and…" O the familiarity in that. He had gotten some of the words confused from my speech, but most correct. Not like it mattered. His father was not capable of listening to more than a few words at a time.

"No water?" He had interrupted with a meaningless, unintelligent shout. I did not like that either.

"No money," his son responded, defensively crossing his arms across his chest.

"There's plenty o' money!" Somehow he was standing now. Amazing how he had managed to topple on his feet.

"What are you talking about? There's no money!"

The response came so quickly it connected with Jou's last word. "You been sending money to that bitch in America?" It was half a question, half an accusation. More of an accusation, I realized. Even if Jou said no the man would not have believed him.

But he did not even begin that argument. "She was your wife. And she needs money."

"You sent her OURS!" There seemed to be hate between both of Jou's parents. That surprised me. Why would his father hate his mother? Or vice versa? I narrowed my eyes and kept watching.

Jou's demeanor changed. He looked completely engulfed by anger, as I was. This man who had entered the apartment so ungracefully. He ruined our happiness. Just as it had come, it had left. I wanted to wrap the boy in my arms and hold him until our anger passed. If only I could reach him…

"What is wrong with you? Why would you do something that stupid? We don't have any money because you give it all away to those bitches in America. There's never any water, any food, any heat around this goddamn place! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Well, maybe we'd have money if you didn't waste it all drinking—.."

I ceased to think of that man in Jou's company as his father from that point on in the rest of my life. Parents and children, (specifically biologically related, I think), have a certain unspoken code of symbiosis that needs to be upheld. Children grow up sane with love from their parents, and parents learn about their humanity and fairness from their children. Each needs the other to survive. A codependent relationship. I did not have this with my stepfather, (indeed, it was quite the opposite), but I would never wish the same way of life on anyone else. There was something so inextricably wrong about it. Parents that treat their children in such a way do not deserve the title of "parent". At least, in my eyes.

So, when the man in Jou's company took a blatant swing at the face of my puppy, I was far from thinking about the familial ties between the two. My mind was occupied with thoughts of how to murder this gentleman of little values. The shouts, "How dare you talk to me like that!" and "You got nothing without me!" bounced in and out of my eardrums with little recognition.

I spoke earlier of the separation between my mind and body. It had ended previously up until that point, but as soon as his humungous fist crashed into my beloved's face, I believe the split happened again.

Silently, without a mind capable of protestation, I watched my legs rush out the door and into the kitchen. Defensively, I stood in front of my Jou. I latched onto that disruptive fist, keeping it in stationary and away from the battered boy cradling his face behind me. Dumb ears listened as an alien, gruff voice poured out of my lips saying in clear English, "You touch him again and I will fucking kill you."

Jonouchi Sr. had animal-like eyes. They looked dull and listless, drooping down at the corners somehow. Broken blood vessels showed plainly in the "whites" and a tired iris of watery chocolate expressed little emotion or feeling in the situation. It was the sheer absence in those eyes that struck me. As if the negativity were lethal.

I heard the man say, "Who the hell are you? Where did you come from? What the hell are you doing in my house?" The questions came in rapid succession; he just wanted answers.

"I am a friend of your son." Best to leave it at that. I had fixed my expression with a cold, icy demeanor, so I'm sure he understood that my identity and my business there were not the matter at hand. "Now. Put down your fist and get out of this house before I kill you."

"This is my house!" He shook his fist in rage and began swinging with the other hand. I caught it. We were now locked in a position of hand combat. The guy was strong, I'll admit. Though not nearly as strong as some of the men I had faced in my life. His power lacked focus. Raw muscle does not win a fight.

We wrestled each other for a few moments. Jou screamed from the background, "What the hell is wrong with you? Get out of there!" I am not sure who these shouts were directed at—if they even had direction in the first place. Unfortunately, there was no stopping now. I had opened a door, (literally), that could not be closed by merely backing away. Letting go now meant certain death, not to mention the complete loss of my love's honor.

This stand-off lasted a few more minutes. Then boredom pervaded and I felt like remaining in such a compromising position could be dangerous. So, I lashed out with my leg and hooked the back of his knee. Unable to defend without his arms, the man toppled over onto his face with a low yelp. I could have beaten him some more, but I did not think it was necessary. The message was clear who had won.

I dug my knee into his spine and grabbed the back of his shirt with one hand and a handful of dirty blonde hair with the other. Using all my strength to heave this whale of a man to his feet, I began walking him menacingly to the front door saying, "Get out of this house and don't ever come back." When we reached the door, I rammed his face into it twice, (maybe three times. I stopped when blood stained the dark wood).

"That's the door. If you ever see this door again—if I ever see you again—you are dead. Understand?" I took one hand and opened the door, throwing the man out onto his broken nose and bruised face.

Calmly, resolutely, I began kicking him so he staggered to his feet and ran down the stairs through the exact same route he entered. The moment I saw his hair fade into the distance, I closed the door quietly.

That was one problem solved, at least.

I turned slowly back to Jou, my mind fully entering my body again with a rush of thought. It was not the type of thought that would have prepared me to defend my actions. Instead, I felt like I was swimming in confusion made by my own hand. Silently, I grasped my head and closed my eyes.

_What the hell did you just do?_ The voice had returned to me. Always at the loveliest of times.

What had I done? I had just thrown Jonouchi Sr. out of his own house in defense of my Jou. Was that legal? It did not matter. It was not like his actions were legal, (beating up his own son), and it was not at all like the man would even bother to show his face to the police, anyway. So. I had just defended my poor…

My poor Jou.

My head whipped up and my eyes flashed open. Jou. Was he alight?

A silhouette of Jou stood in the doorway to the kitchen. He was a silhouette, like an outline of his former self. Every feature of Jou was there, every speck of blonde hair and every follicle of skin, yet there seemed to be missing one thing: Jou himself. His eyes were fixated on the door, unmoving, unblinking. Was he in shock? Was he still frightened? Was he…pleased? Was he angry? I missed the consistent feature of the boy that always told me exactly what he felt. His sleeve bearing his heart. I missed those sleeves.

"Jou?" I asked tentatively, unsure if my presence was even welcome here anymore. My voice seemed to shatter the suspension in time that had settled in since the fat man left, (left is an adequate word for it). I felt exposed after it was gone. Was this the time to somehow explain myself? Slowly, I took a step in his direction. He did not move.

I took another step. Nothing. A few more steps. Not even an eyelid flickered. One, two, three more steps…I was on top of him.

His face looked horrible. The left side was enlarged and had turned a deep, noticeable crimson precisely on his cheekbone, just below his eye. I could tell that in a few hours that mark would be purple. The wounds already looked so painful. His right eyelid lapsed permanently over his eye, engorged with broken capillaries. It was much the same color as the left side with a more pronounced tint of purple because it seemed as though he had been punched there first. Luckily, I had stopped the man before he had a chance to inflict any more damage to his…well, son is a stretch of the imagination.

His face…his beautiful, carefree face…so broken and marred…at the hands of that thing that had just decided it was alright to beat this…protector of mine. I wished, for a second, that I had killed him. It might have made the hate lessen.

"Jou," I whispered into that injured face, clasping his head with both of my hands, as quietly and softly as possible. His eyes wavered up to meet mine. Using his native tongue of English, the question rolled out of my mouth before I could stop it: "Are you alright?" I had not meant his physical self.

"Do I look alright?" he asked in the same language, using a loud tone of voice that exploded in my face.

Shaking my head, I responded, "No, I did not mean that. I meant…are you alright?"

This new proposition took him a while to digest. When he figured it out, he looked up at me and said in a quieter pitch, "Why did you do that?"

"I am not going to stand by and let you be hurt. By anyone."

"That guy was my father…" He blinked back the emotion welling to the surface. I wished he had let me see it. Every single part of me wanted to know what he felt at that moment.

"Not as far as I am concerned."

At this, he closed his eyes. "Aishiteru, Seto." (I love you) The words tumbled out of his mouth quickly. I barely understood them. Although, I knew what he was going to say before he said it. More or less, the hearts on his sleeve could never be hidden entirely from view. Jou was that kind of person.

Switching back to Japanese, I responded, "I know." Something within me hesitated before returning the words. The situation had changed to an argument with Mokuba. Instead of breaking down and admitting I loved the boy, ready to beg for his forgiveness as my body demanded, I stood tall and proud, saying not a word. What was wrong with me? Why were the words so difficult to say?

Did I love Jou?

How should I know that? I just knew that…he had shown me kindness and understanding that people had never shown me before. He had accepted me for who I was—all of who I was. No one had ever done that before. The sight of him made me weak and involuntarily prone, susceptible to the slightest of touches. The feel of him…as he was doing at that moment, reaching around my back and grasping me closer to him…made me quiver…

"Seto…" the boy sighed and leaned in to kiss me. I kissed him back readily, enjoying the palpably soft taste of his lips against mine. The inviting warmth of his tongue…the cold, slippery fingers running down my back…my body shaking against the sensations, his own body joining me without shame.

The mood had shifted slightly. We were no longer trapped in this hellhole of an apartment. Now we were hovering above the cruel reality that disfigured Jou and scarred me, orphaned Yugi and traumatized Mokuba. That reality. That horrible living nightmare where nothing ever seemed to work out in my advantage, or anyone's advantage for that matter. People were cruel. Dogs everywhere bit the hands of their feeders. Men stole and killed to get what the wanted. Money served as driving, divine force behind the greedy minds of men. People died leaving innocent children to fend for themselves in the bitter underworld of grief and purposelessness. People hated themselves and would do anything to make themselves feel better, to survive the onslaught of self-loathing that attacked their bodies and minds relentlessly, driving them to unreasonable ends. Killing them, sometimes. No one got anything for free or took anything for granted before it was snatched out of their hands in despicable irony. The world was lonely, unforgiving. Jou and I were just caught up in the midst of it with our lives.

And yet, in each others arms…we were free. Jou and I escaped. I escaped through him and he escaped through me. It was freedom, really.

I continued to kiss him, pressing myself harder against his soft body. He responded willingly, doing the same. Before long, the kiss progressed into something much more than a kiss. It became a plea. A plea for help and release. The only sound reaction was to keep kissing and keep touching until the plea silenced itself. The demand for help became a demand for flesh. I wanted him. Immediately.

Abandoning all reason, I bit down against his lip, the most accessible thing to me. The body in my arm twitched and he moaned readily. Then I began chewing the lip, eliciting more cries from him, enjoying the sounds and the taste of blood slowly seeping out of the soft skin…but I did not want to hurt my love. So I stopped and moved away from his mouth.

His single eye stared up at me in question, wondering what I had in mind. My hands grasped his lower back. I pushed his lower half into me roughly and wrapped my legs around his, entwining us further. Jou groaned again in ecstasy. I kissed his forehead with passion and ran my lips down his face to the side of his neck. After sniffing the skin in fetish, causing him to shudder, I kissed the spot feverishly. His aroma was so…feral.

The boy's hands were fumbling around with my pants. He could not seem to find the front of them. Moving my own away from his back, I slid them around to my front and let him fumble with the buttons as I continued my movements.

His collarbone protruded temptingly. I kissed it and wrapped my mouth around it subtly, sucking on the skin and bone gladly. I felt my pants drop. Everything suddenly became a lot colder…but I ignored that and moved hands to the muscle shirt clothing the boy before me. Grabbing the loose material around the bottom, I carried it over his head and threw it to the side of the room without a second thought.

The sight of his chest was…unbelievably satisfying. His skin was toned and his muscles were visible but humble. His ribs were evident underneath the thin flesh, but nothing like starvation hollows. I ran my hands over the bones, drinking in the sight. Jou looked at me impatiently. He wanted me to move faster, I understood that. So I offered him relief and kneeled down on the floor, kissing his skin softly. There was so little thought involved in this process, like the entire thing was so natural. There was no shame in the fact of kneeling before Jou begging to give him pleasure. There was just the moment. I liked that.

My mouth ran over the ripples in his skin, moving down slowly to his pelvis where I administered deep kisses that brought Jou down to his knees, facing me. Slowly, without my even realizing it, he moved down on top of me. I let his warmth cover my own, barely noticing how reminiscent this is of my times with another man…

Jou kissed my face and then moved down to my naked body. His hands wrapped around my neglected erection and began pumping me…slowly…I squirmed beneath his touch, convincing him to move on. He went harder, faster…I felt myself slowly ascending…slowly…

And abruptly he stopped.

"Jou," I demanded harshly. His puppyish grin was all that responded. "Jou, what are you doing?"

"I'm having fun," he replied. Damn him. He moved to lie on top of me, but I stopped him. If he was allowed to have fun, then so was I. As he moved downward, I caught his arms and sat up. The playful look in his eyes reached a point of happiness. Was Jou enjoying this game? This game of control, then?

Whatever. This was admittedly amusing…though, I still remembered my own purpose. I put a stopper on the enjoyment bubbling within myself and pushed myself on top of Jonouchi. Enjoyment in this? That was something…entirely new to me. When was sex enjoyable? When you were with someone you loved and cared for? Perhaps…

Yanking the thoughts out of my brain, not wishing to think of anything other than the supple body beneath my own, I climbed into a ready position in between Jou's legs. Removal of his pants was difficult at first, my fingers tingles with anticipation and my eyes found it hard to concentrate on something so small at the moment. Jou's hands helped me slightly towards the end, his own body so impatient for the next move.

When he was ready, I prepared him only with saliva. Regretting that this was not the safest thing to do, but not having time to get my head around anything but the haven of love we had created, I slammed into him. The sweet sound of his release mixed with my own sudden orgasm tumbled over my ears and through my mind, filling me with bliss for the span of a full second. We rested on each other's bodies for a moment. Then I sat up and began again, prepping for the second time…

You can imagine the rest of the night, I'm sure.

It took a while after we finished for the two of us to notice that we had had sex in the corridor between Jou's kitchen and front door. Neither of us preferred the thought of moving. Our bodies were exhausted.

Laying in his arms, (it was difficult, really, to tell who exactly lay on top of who, so we just knew that our bodies were connected indefinitely), I tried to organize the thoughts in my head. Amazingly, I found that there was little to organize. There had only been the pleasure of the evening…the bliss of Jonouchi…and the escape. The wonderful escape.

Was there a time when I thought sex could only be cruelty? Of course. All the men that had used me throughout my life had proved that much. But Jou had taught me that there was something more to the act than just being used. There was something much more beautiful than that…but I could not put my finger on it.

_Forget it._ The voice had changed its tone. It was no longer taunting and ridiculing, it was a lot calmer. Had the voice changed forever? The thought sent a swell of uncertainty to well within me. What would happen if this voice changed…

_Forget everything. There is only now, Seto. Only now in this boy's arms. That's what you should concentrate on._

Only now. Well, "now" was something I could accustom myself to. This was peaceful.

I looked down at Jou, wondering if he was asleep. His eyelids were closing, (the marks on his face did not look so glaring in the fading daylight). We were both bathed in orange from the light seeping in from the outside world. It reminded me of the first time we had almost kissed. This would be dubbed my "Jou time". That was the only thing that made sense.

"Seto…" The whisper startled me from gazing.

"Nani?" I asked, making sure my tone was not too harsh.

Jou looked happy and slightly contented in the suspension between sleep and wakefulness. "I forget to tell you earlier…"

I tilted my head, interested in what he had to say.

"Your English is pretty good…"

I smiled. "Thank you," was my English response.

Silence for a few moments. I guessed that it had come as a surprise to him that I knew his language. The thought had never entered my mind, although it did have a ring of convenience…but that was another thought which I did not care to think of.

"Seto," the figure next to me started again. The stressed tone in his voice told me that there was something he had to say before he fell asleep. "I have to back to America."

Shock flowed through my veins. He wanted to leave? Already?

"So soon?" I asked.

"Soon as I can. My mother…she needs me bad, Seto." His eyes showed similar emotion to what he had shown me last night. "I don' have any money, but…maybe…maybe…somethin'…special will happen if I'm there. And if not, then…I want to be with her and…with my sister…if she…dies." The last word surprised me. He could say that word? Amazing. Most people shied away from it at the first consonant.

Swallowing my disappointment, I asked, "How are you going to get there?"

He shrugged. "I dunno. But I'm goin'. As soon as I can…" A yawn escaped his lips, cutting off the rest of his words. I liked that idea, cutting him off. So I rested my fingers on top of his head and told him softly, "Go to sleep…you're tired…go to sleep." He obeyed me without a moment's thought.

So I lay there. The only one awake after what had been the most erotic and sensual night of my life.

It was ruined. Jou needed to leave me—leave this entire country—for his family. He needed to be away from me to fulfill his own goals, save his family. As much as I wanted to, there was not a single argument in my mind to refute that wish. Jou needed to be released from this place. There was nothing for him here, now that his father had been kicked out. (Or supposedly, anyway.)

And what of his father? Or, the man that shared his company now and again, as was his proper title? Would he be back anytime soon? If so, then he would bring all his anger and shame with him, which meant more trouble for both of us. He would be trapped here. Iie, that was not an acceptable outcome.

So, if Jou left now…right this very night…

The peacefulness crashed around my head with a loud, silent bang. How long did I expect this to last? Forever? I knew that I had wanted that, that impossible break in this world. How could I possibly expect that? Nothing ever happened that way.

I had my own problems to deal with. My company was still failing rapidly. Yugi's grandfather was still dead. Mokuba still needed to be loved. Toshokama's evening approached the date on quick, demonic wings. Where had those thoughts gone during my time with Jou—Jonouchi? Did not thinking about them make them disappear? Certainly not.

So. Then. It was settled. I needed to do what I needed to do. For Jou's sake and my own. For Mokuba's sake. For Yugi's sake. For the sake of my company.

_For the good of the company, Seto. Nothing else matters._

Goddamn it, Gozaburo. I shook the thoughts from my mind. That had nothing to do with this. I would not let it invaded me again.

Carefully unwinding myself from around Jou's body, I stood up and found my pants. A lot of energy was put into each step of my weary legs, but I had been through worse exhaustion. At least this exhaustion rang of something pleasurable.

I locked my arms behind Jou's neck and underneath his legs. Scooping him up delicately, I began to carry him quietly into the bedroom. He did not even flinch as I tucked the sheets around him. The boy was dead tired. If only I could heal the wounds on his face…No time. With one last glance at his heavenly face, I turned and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind me. Such a useful door. It served as the divider between the two of us twice.

My shoes and socks were by the door, of course. I slipped them on and went hunting for my shirt and jacket. Jou had placed my shirt in the bathroom by the sink, where he had kindly washed all the vomit off of it. It looked fairly clean. I could change when I arrived home. My long jacket hung quietly in his apartment closet, where I knew that no harm had come to it. Not a single object had been removed from the inside pockets. _Dōmō, Jonouchi._ I thought. There were useful things within this coat.

Fully clothed, I stood before the front door, contemplating my next move. Jou was leaving for America as soon as possible, (to use his words). He did not know how…I guess my next move had already been decided for me.

Reaching into my jacket, I pulled out my checkbook. $300. That should be enough to get a one-way trip plane ticket to America, wherever he wanted to go. Hopefully the damn thing would not bounce. I doubted it. There were still savings in my bank account that I was afraid to touch. Those savings well exceeded one thousand dollars. But a person cannot live their life on that much. So I decided to leave it where it was. Seven hundred was reasonable for the sake of Jou's okāsan (mother).

Leaving just the check on the kitchen table seemed too cryptic. Cruel, even. So, I pulled out the single sheet of paper I had: The paper with Jou's phone number on it. I doubt that I would need it wherever the boy was going. Flipping it over to the back, I took out a pen and wrote in legible script:

_That is more than enough for a plane ticket to America. I guess we both still have our own demons to fight._

_--Seto_

Simple, it's true, but it was all I could give him. Words of love and devotion are not written on paper or spoken through the mouth. They are felt. I could not write feelings to Jou.

After glancing illicitly at the door to Jou's bedroom, I turned around abruptly and went to the front door. Standing in the corridor, I weighed my options of where to go next. Home? Work? Oh, so many choices. Home sounded like the more logical one. I wanted to know if Yugi had not killed himself yet.

Blood still stained the wood. That would be there for a while, I had a feeling. Twisting the knob silently, I stepped out of the apartment that had been such therapy for me these pats few days.

I shut the door with a click. Damn it all. I did not need therapy. I needed to end this. That was the plan.

Yet, I thought as I made my way down the stairs and into the fresh night air, the apartment had healed me in ways leaving could not erase. Then why did it feel like I was pulling the sutures out of my own broken body by walking out the door?

Such a question was too morbid to answer. Instead, I concentrated on the open air of the night. Hopefully I could find my way home from here. It did not really matter. My Kaiba Corp. building always shone brightly to lead me in some direction. All I had to do was follow it.

_Breathe_, I commanded myself. _Breathe the mobile air. _

My body ached all over. _Walking is still painful, Jonouchi…_

A/N: Ok, it's over. Wow. The infamous ninth chapter that took me three months to finish. It's done! Yay! (sighs in relief)

Alright…I'm thinking that that was more like a lemon? I'm not sure. What really defines the limits between lemon and lime? What do you guys think? Did you like it? I know it wasn't really very exciting…but think about it: Seto and Jou together. Isn't that exciting by itself? (receives blank looks from readers) Maybe not.

Did anyone figure out who Katsumoto was before this chapter? Just wondering. I felt like I was giving too much away before. Oh well. At least his identity was finally revealed. (Finally.)

Thanks for reading this everyone. I love you guys so much…it will be interesting to see who stayed with it after such a long time. Please review! I miss you all. (offers greeting cards on the way out)


	10. Answers

Hmm…I am so sorry if this was in any way unclear, but: CHAPTER NINE WAS NOT THE LAST CHAPTER. A few of my reviewers were coming back with questions about that, so, no it was not. Sorry about that! Let me make it clear for the future: When the story ends, I will tell you in exact English. Chapter 10 is not the last chapter, either. I'm thinking of having a few more—maybe two or three. It all depends! Don't say your good-byes too soon, everyone! I'd miss you already (cries)!

Thanks for returning for the follow-up to this sad story…it is coming along a little better now, (not my schedule, as you may have noticed, lol, but the story).I am SO happy that a lot of you returned to review the last one. I have loyalties…thanks so much! Enjoy this one; it's kind of shorter than the past few, but within reason. The next chapter is the absolute climax, everyone. Enjoy!

**_Warning:_** Explicit yaoi, rape, abuse…violence…oh, strong language…yeah. All that.

Disclaimer: I don't own YGO.

**Chapter Ten: Answers **

For a perfect night, the streets were mostly empty. It is a rarity amongst popular cities to find a peaceful evening like that. The wind blew around me in chilly, teasing gust, not exactly cold but certainly not warm and comforting. Unconsciously, I wrapped my coat around myself more tightly and kept it there with hands buried deep within my front pockets.

After a few minutes of walking, I had forgotten my tiredness. Breathing had sedated me into a lull of deep thought. Walking had become systematic. I stayed on the sidewalks to remain in the light of the streetlamps. The light became mechanic; darkness in the island between lampposts, footsteps on the pavement, blinding and dirty yellow light pouring down on me for an instant, then darkness, footsteps…The cycle dulled my senses.

I suppose that a myriad of thought passed through my mind at the time. Most of them were about Mokuba. I really should have called him while I was with Jou—a simple check-in if nothing else. How rude of me, how irresponsible, how un-brotherly to just leave him alone with everything for days. It had done nothing to improve his liking of me, I was sure.

And Yugi? Suicidal and in need of constant care? I had abandoned him. The vicious image of his grandfather's cadaver flickered into my mind's eye, accompanying the guilt to rub salt on the wound. How could I leave him with that same picture? Surely not a moment passed when he did not think of it…anyone could have been driven to…well…Yugi was a topic best left to the future.

Ichigata-san? My Vice President. So alone. He had all the books on corporate living, yet none of them held the answers to our plight. I had left him alone with the depressing figures of Kaiba Corp. without any hope of return.

I inhaled deeply. What would the company be like when I returned? Jou still believed in miracles. His voice echoed into the silent night air, "Maybe…something special will happen if I'm there." Maybe something special had happened to my company while I was not there.

A smirk played with my lips. I doubted it.

I looked up from my silent reverie. Downtown had passed without a single good-bye. From my point of view, Downtown represented everything about Jou. It was basically his domain. I had passed that now. I had passed Jou.

When would I see him again? That was impossible to answer. However, my heart would just not leave me alone. It asked persistently, over and over, again and again, until I acknowledged it with a sharp command.

"Shut up," I whispered under my breath. I did not want to hear another word come from the direction of…my feelings for that boy. There was to be no more discussion on the matter. We had left each other.

For good? Still that damn, hopeful voice…

"Shut up," I growled. Forcing myself to think about something else, I looked up again from the pavement.

The buildings around me were dark and silent. The tall corporate buildings reflected the moon's glow depressingly. The polished, expensive glass from the corporate buildings always reflected the light. Did they ever absorb any of it? I practically lived in a corporate building. The answer was no. Offices were dark places were laws, moral ethics, and lives were destroyed. Light reflected off of them conversely, unable to enter such bleak places. Even the moon's ethereal glow could not bear to enter.

_Oh, how sad…_That same old voice from my early days of self-hatred. I had lost my confidence in the voice. It's transgression a few hours ago, (when it proclaimed love and calmness), had made me skeptical of it. Maybe without the voice I could start feeling better about myself.

_It's doubtful, Seto._ It was.

My vision seemed pulled by gravity towards the floor. Iie. I would not keep my head down. My head would remain upright and defiant throughout. Now was not the time for "head down" philosophies.

I stared into the empty night in front of me. There seemed to be some commotion up ahead. Fender bender of some kind. I saw the broken taillights and the heard the screaming people, probably tired and unable to think clearly. Like animals, they yelled at each other. My feet drew my closer to them. I was not going to change paths. They were inconsequential, really.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" a man with short black hair, thick glasses, and a middle-aged gut bellowed. "You just fucking pulverized my car!"

The other, a heavy woman with infuriated eyes and unbelievably curly hair that ricocheted off her body uncontrollably, had nothing better to say. "I pulverized your car? What the fuck are you talking about? I was in front of you! You rear-ended me from behind! Get thicker glasses so you can fucking see!"

"What the hell? You backed into me, you bitch!"

I walked by, nothing but a skinny, waif-like passerby. The cars were quite mangled. Hopefully they had insurance or something. Unaffected by their hardship, I stared back at them as I walked. They continued to scream profanities and insults, talking over each other so their vehement words became inaudible in the end.

People. When they became angry, they yelled and carried on like animals. I decided then and there that screaming was a waste of time. No one ever remembers exactly what words were screamed at them. All they remember is the scream. That was not enough for me. I moved away from the rage.

Gray. Cities are gray places at night. The innumerable restaurants, clothing stores, shoe shops, food stands, supermarkets, jewelry dealers, banks, and landmarks. Everything was exactly the same, really. What were all these damn things for? Life. People need food to live. They need clothing to live. They need the new pair of Armani sunglasses to live. They need it.

What a sick joke. I was disgusted with city life all of a sudden. Every since I was born, I had lived in many cities. All of them were exactly the same. Aimless people with empty needs trying to justify their own existence through meaninglessly tangible things. That was what made up a city. Humans need intangible thought; philosophies, emotion, love, hate are all things that a decent bodies needs to survive. I had once thought that feelings and values were secondary in the face of the tangible. I revise that statement here. Humans need an equal balance of both to survive. I needed my company, that's true. But I needed the feelings I held for Jou. And Mokuba. And Yugi. I needed those feelings to keep me strong and ready to fight. Without them, I would be nothing.

Enough said. I refuse to bore you with my neurotic philosophies. There is only one thing you need to take away from all these random thoughts of a traumatized 19-year-old: Humans need feelings. Enough said.

With these recent discoveries in mind, I trekked onward towards the nearing Kaiba Corp. monument. Should I attempt to call my family with my cell phone? I decided not to. The actual image of me would be more comforting—and why rush the abusive process of returning to that which I had so desperately run from?

I felt a gust of wind burst forth from the subways as I passed a set of stairs leading to subterranean. The harsh sound of wheels on a track accompanied the wind fiercely and then left after an instant. People. They had places to go, things to do; spending their time in the mechanical world of fast-paced mobility, they forgot to notice that standing still could get you places just as quickly. That's was I was doing as I peered cautiously into the stairwell. I stood stock still and wondered whether or not I should take the subway to a street closer to home than this…Iie. I would never willingly descend into that hell-pit of stagnant air and lost, irritable people. Resolutely, I moved on.

No subways. No buses. No trains. No cars. No airplanes or jets. All I had were my legs, dying from exhaustion I forgot to feel. I suppose someone could find this prospect very romantic. Someone other than myself. At that moment, I wanted nothing more than modern transportation, but I would not allow myself to succumb. Don't ask me why, for God's sake. It was probably very stupid considering that I was extremely tired, had not eaten properly in over three days, and was in a state of emotional failure. The intelligent thing to do would have been to get off my feet.

Intelligence. How amusing. That night, I was everything but intelligent. My mind seemed to have been misplaced.

Finally, with my legs forced to walk the distance unwillingly, I reached the Kaiba Corp. building. Its familiar sight helped me regain some of my senses. This building was my second home. I needed to decide whether to check my office life before my home life or vice versa. Regardless of what I would have chosen if left to my own devices, my legs seemed to walk off the premises without waiting for an answer. Mokuba needed me. My family had been abandoned.

The walk from Kaiba Corp. to my mansion was far, but I had walked it dozens of times prior. I rarely drove to Kaiba Corp. as I've mentioned. This time, I found the walk to be almost refreshing. Watching the metallic buildings and advertisements disappear as open air property filled my senses was enjoyable to me for some reason.

Maybe I just needed to get away from it all. Hell, if only that was possible.

The sight of my home in the distance was enough to send me into a state of complete awareness. Suddenly, I found myself wondering why everything has been so complicated not a moment ago. Right now, there was my home, my mission to end misery, Yugi and Mokuba, and my company. That was all.

Damn it all, I thought, holding a hand to my head. I was seriously just thinking about the philosophy of city life. What had brought that on? I shook my head, as if to rid myself of the craziness. Just move on, Seto. Move on.

I approached my house with artificial fervor. _Move those damn legs, Seto. _I repeated this to myself despite the fact that my legs were crying out in pain (aha, there was the ache I had forgotten). _Get to your brother._

It took years for the front door to appear before me. Still, I had no time to ponder about pain and time and whatnot. There were people inside this home in need of comfort.

I checked the doorknob. Open. My heart skipped six beats. They had left it open—for anyone to walk in? What if someone already had…

Toshokama. Katsumoto. Wolves eating children…

Mindless, rabid with panic, I yanked the door open. Old remembrances of my home rushed into my retinas with habitual emotional responses to greet them but no recognition. Scenery was nonexistent.

"Mokuba!" I cried out and ran up the stairs.

To my utter surprise, a call responded. "Seto?"

"Mokuba!" I yelled, not noticing the way my feet tripped over the stairs as I ran to the bedrooms (the only place Toshokama or Katsumoto would think to go).

"Seto!" At first, only a small round shadow appeared on the walls, then a small figure and—Mokuba. At last.

We ran to each other and engulfed each other in a hug most unlike either of us. He was crying, but I could not decipher why. Holding him well within my grasp yet far enough so that I could examine him, my eyes searched for some horrible violation on the boy. Nothing. Not a…

"Mokuba, did he hurt you?" I asked, physically shaking him out of tears momentarily.

Watery eyes and a tearstained face stared back at me. "Did who hurt me, Seto?"

"The men! Where are they? Mokuba, please tell me—.."

"Seto, what are you talking about?" Mokuba broke free of my grasp and stood at a fair distance away from his frantic brother. Fear showed in his features. As if he didn't look pathetic enough.

Wait. My mind slowly began to work. Mokuba was alright. He had not been violated. He did not even know what I was talking about! There were no men here. The door had been open because…well, it was just open. People forgot to lock their doors sometimes, right? Toshokama had not invaded. Katsumoto was still far away.

I exhaled and broke down onto the floor, panting. This was an unbecoming way to reintroduce myself after days of inexplicable absence, I'll admit, but I had no intention of doing what I had done. My body and its worst fears had gained control.

"Gomen nasai, Otōto. I…thought something had happened." My exhausted body was propped up like a rag doll against the wall while Mokuba's body had shrunk away from me like I was infected. Fitting.

"Seto…" Mokuba began, creeping towards me slightly. "What…where were you?"

The compulsory question. How could I answer that? How could I tell my brother everything that I had been through, (drunkenness, love, hate, deep passion, and then departure), without scarring him beyond repair?

Swallowing loudly, I opened my eyes and stared at my poor brother. Immediately I knew that he was not a child anymore. Everything about him had changed. First, he was at least five pounds thinner. His face looked gaunt with worry etched deeply into his features. The small, childish hands that used to give me such innocent hugs were now bony and worn. Visible marks made their way across his skinny arms from arguments or accidents I had missed. His once cute and inviting form now had clothing hanging off of it in clumps, promising a malnourished body underneath. With a gasp I realized that the clothes were different than I remembered; the childish Duel Monsters figures conspicuously absent. Were those a teenager's clothes he wore? American grunge, almost.

My brother. I had left him without a means of saving himself from the grief of this house and this life. I had…done this to him.

Sitting up, I opened my arms, inviting a hug from the boy. My mind did not even cast a thought to the act, as it once might have. My brother needed a hug. He needed care. He needed a parent, which again I had failed to provide.

Without words, he stood straight up and moved slowly—cautiously, almost—into my embrace. I wrapped my arms around his slight figure and rubbed circles into his back, wincing at the palpable ribs. Gradually, as if with actual thought to the matter, Mokuba began to sob softly.

"Shhh," I coaxed. "It's alright now, Mokuba. I'm not going to leave again."

"Seto…Gomen! I am so sorry! You left because of me, right? Gomen, gomen! I didn't mean to drive you away! I was so stupid. I'm sorry! Please forgive me, Seto! I'm sorry!"

Oh, the irony. I was about to say the same exact thing. But my poor brother had been confused into thinking that he was the cause of my absence! This would not continue. I hated myself for the very idea.

"Iie, iie. No, Mokuba it is not your fault. I left because…I felt…" How to explain this? "Broken. And it had nothing to do with you."

Mokuba lifted his head. "Broken?"

I nodded. "Hai. There have been things going on in my life, Mokuba, that are…less than dignified. You don't need to know more than that."

"Less than dignified?" he asked.

Another nod. "I left without the intention of staying gone, Mokuba." Why was I speaking to him as I would a child? Maybe it was the way he cried that made me talk down to him. Maybe it was the way he acted so young by repeating the words that confused him. Maybe it was because he knew so little of the situation at hand. I hated myself for speaking to him in such a way.

"Really?"

"Of course. I would never leave you, Mokuba."

For a few seconds, he continued to sob against me. I let him and continued to massage his back for comfort. Then he asked, "Then why were you gone so long?"

"I was sick," I responded. Again, the lies. But what could I say? I was drunk off my fucking head, Mokuba. That's the truth. "And somebody found me. They took care of me for a while, until I left because…there are things that need to be taken care of."

Mokuba was silent after I told him all this. He stopped crying after only a few moments, but he stayed within our hug for a while.

Suddenly, he wriggled out of the embrace and moved to sit in front of me so our faces were almost level. "Seto," he began, wiping his face against the baggy sleeves. "I did some research while you were gone."

I raised an eyebrow. Research? Well, he was a Kaiba.

He continued. "I found out about Toshokama." The name, uttered from his lips, made me convulse internally. How dare that wretched name stain his lips? I hated it. But Mokuba showed no sign of stopping. He had information.

"I found out that you were going to his house in Nagasaki all those times you said you were on business trips. I also found out that every time you came back the company's figures dropped even more. What were you doing with him, Seto? The guy is evil! I researched his history and he's been involved in all kinds of illegal stuff and, like, stuff that normal people would have been locked away for but he wasn't because he has money. They guy is insane, Seto! In Nagasaki, it's almost a public secret that he beats his wife and daughter but no one does anything about it! What were you possibly doing with him, Seto?"

How could I answer a question like that? "Mokuba, it was business. You understand that." I added slight inflection to the last three words. Though the words pained me, I had no other explanation.

Mokuba stared at me in disbelief for a moment. He had changed into the cynic I was. A smirk played on my lips briefly. At least now we had more in common…(what a horrible thing to say). He continued his story. "Well, whatever you were doing, please stop! Seto, I have to tell you something. There are rumors that the only reason his company is so successful is because he steals money from other companies illegally. They say he has more power over the money of corporations than anyone else in Japan! They say he can direct money flow in whatever way he wants because his family is so rich and he has descended from, like, a million generations of wealth all the way back to the 1800s! Seto, I don't like him at all and I think that it's dangerous to be around him doing 'business' or whatever—.."

It was time for me to add something to this conversation. "Mokuba, stop. All of your information sounds credible, but I have to ask you one question: What are your sources? The internet? Books? Rumors? People lie, Mokuba, people exaggerate. Please, don't nourish your prognosis off idiotic conspiracy theories like half the—.."

"I didn't get my info from the net, Seto."

Confusion settled within my mind. I had already prepared a retort to his accusations. "Nani? Then where did you get all of this, Mokuba?"

Relaxed, as if this were the basis of his everyday life, Mokuba sat on his knees and dictated things I would not have thought possible a few months ago. "Toshokama's wife. I invited her over for dinner a few nights ago, Seto, the day you went missing. I didn't know where you went and neither did the police. So I decided to check your business partners first. I found the airplane registration forms that you always keep lying around your office and found out exactly where you were headed in Nagasaki. From there, the pieces of the puzzle began to fit together and I realized that some guy named Toshokama Mataki was the object of these meetings. After that, I took your own advice."

He paused to restore a lock of stray hair, continuing the story readily. "The internet and public rumors are just dumb things to use, Seto. So, I talked with Ichigata-san, your VP, and decided to find out exactly who Toshokama Mataki was. We did some research together on the family and decided to meet with a member personally."

Speechless though I was, I realized that this was starting to make some sense. I followed along with the next step I myself would have taken had I thought enough to do this kind of research.

"So you decided to meet with the wife on the grounds that she was the lesser of two evils and might be easier to pry information out of. You told her it was some routine business deal that men usually invite their wives to dine with the families of their business partners." It was my guess.

"Exactly, Seto. We used a similar excuse, something more benign." Benign? Mokuba knew what that word meant? Insane. "So Ichigata and I invited her over here for some dinner the on…I think it was the night before last. Yeah, it was." I watched as his young mind thought back to that day wishing that I had been there to partake in the discoveries. "She looked creepy, Seto. Scared as hell to be out of the house, I think. Whenever one of us got too close to her, she would nearly jump out of her chair—even if it was to offer her more tea!"

That did not surprise me in the least. I had met with the daughter on one occasion. Impossible to forget the young girl with bruises on her entire body like smudges of blue from an unnamable experience…I stared absently at the floor, remembering her silent plea. Why should the mother be any different? However, I was beginning to dislike Mokuba's association with the event. How much did Toshokama know of him? Already, my mind was black and skeptical.

Trudging onward, I asked, "What was the outcome of your meeting, Mokuba?"

"Well, after a few cups of sake we got her to admit some of the things I just told you. She said that she had seen you around the house a few times before; although it seemed liked Toshokama was trying to hide it. She ended up sleeping over into the next day, actually. Seto, I felt so bad when she had to leave. I told her not go home—for anything. I told her that no matter what valuable things she thought she had in that house, it was not worth it. Toshokama can't know about the meeting, duh. We had done everything secretly before that to keep his suspicions low. Keiko looked so depressed and so frightened, though…Seto…I couldn't help what I did next."

"What did you do, Mokuba?" I was almost afraid to hear it.

"Seto, I gave her some of our money so she could escape that house. I couldn't give her anything else. I'm sorry, Seto! Please don't be angry with me!"

"Why would I be angry? I would have done the same." My encounter with Jou had taught me no less.

"Really?" He looked surprised.

"Hai. So what did you do with all your information, Mokuba?"

"That's where we were stumped. Ichigata and I could not figure out how to move forward. The police would not touch Toshokama because of the money and the taboo, as I said. We needed…a plan. I'm so glad you're back, Nii-san!"

My mind was officially boggled. While I was off getting drunk and having sex with my mind's obsession, Mokuba and Ichigata were proving themselves useful in the situation. I was proud of my brother and my Vice President. Something else stuck in my mind, something that Jou said.

A miracle had happened while I was away.

_Alright, let's not get too carried away. There is still a lot of business to attend to. _Exactly. Forget the idealistic bullshit. Mokuba may have started me off on my quest for freedom; however…an idea had crossed my mind bleakly. Mokuba had done all this. And thus endangered himself. Toshokama had the means to find out about this meeting with the female Toshokama-san no matter how "secret" the Ichigata and Mokuba had been. Honestly, what was stopping him from such a discovery? Had the two of them been so useful to me as to put themselves in harm's way? My breath hitched, but I refused to let Mokuba see my emotions. Let him believe he had done well.

Alright…think, Kaiba. It's possible that Toshokama is still unaware of the meeting. His wife would not have returned to the house and risked her very life. Would she? Would she return for little Miyuki? Would she do such a thing?

I would have. I would risk death for a beloved family member.

But she was not me. Maybe she had been heartless enough not to care abut the long-lost daughter of hers. Maybe, I hoped it was so…

_So now your future depends on the woman's heartlessness, Seto?_

A tiny voice full of disproportionate understanding cut through my thoughts. "By the way, Seto. Yugi's in his room. Sleeping, I think." My head snapped to meet his. _Hide everything, Seto. _"He really helped us out a lot when Keiko—that's Toshokama's wife—was here. He acted really sweet to her and everything…I think it was the wine and him that won her over, actually."

No suicide? Good news. Perhaps Yugi had gotten over some of his depression the day we left his grandfather's tombstone behind. It was more than I could hope for the young one.

Still, my mind was on other things. The cloud of dark premonition was lodged within the back of my mind, foretelling of an endangered Mokuba.

I refuted the cloud. Keep focused on your brother, first and foremost. "Excellent," I said. "There is still a lot of work left, Mokuba."

"I know," he looked down in shame.

"But I can do that." I needed to tell him what I said next, clouds aside, though it may have seemed slightly unnatural for me, considering the way we usually conversed. "I want you to know that I am very proud of you. I could not have asked more from anyone—including you." If only you had not endangered yourself. I closed my eyes and breathed the next words with lingering sorrow, "Dōmō, Otōto."

Unaffected by my struggle, Mokuba continued onward by saying, "I had to do it, Seto. You were in trouble." The response came so naturally to him. He really believed that he had helped me. Good. For now, we were safe. I would worry about how much Toshokama knew of this help when that problem arose. First, my brother needed to be taken care of as only I could do.

"Mokuba," I began, standing us up and steering our bodies to walk towards the kitchen. "When was the last time you ate?"

He looked at the floor, truly bewildered at the question. His lack of an answer proved to me that not even he knew. "I don't know…I…could it have been when Keiko was over?"

I closed my eyes. "That's not acceptable, Mokuba. When have you slept?"

This he knew more readily. "I haven't Seto, not really…it's so hard to sleep when you're not around…"

My eyes opened. "I know, Mokuba. But you need to take care of yourself despite what may be happening to me. Do you understand that?" That was more for the future tense, I guess. I had already begun to think about what would happen if I were permanently…removed from my young brother's life. What then? Starvation? Insomnia? I figured it was best to ward that off now.

"I understand." He looked at me from his hollowed out face and looked—for a moment—almost content. When was the last time I had seen that look on his face? Too long. Oh well. At least he had found some peace in his work. Now if only that were a contagious condition…

"I'll make you something to eat Mokuba, but then it's straight to bed."

"What about school?" a small hint of hope in that young voice. School? What was that, again? Oh, yes, of course. School. Did not that only take place on weekdays?

"Naze, what day is it?"

"Tuesday."

Ah. "Well, I have no doubt that you will be able to make up the lessons from only a few days' absence. As it seems, you are capable of more than efficient research."

From underneath a mop of black hair, greasy and unwashed, Mokuba shined. I had lost all care for schoolwork. If this ever ended, I might never return to that place. There would be no reason to without Jou there to brighten the day.

I fixed my brother a simple meal of tempura vegetables with some shrimp, (it was one of his favorite dish), and made some extra for Yugi. Although Mokuba made it distinctly clear that I myself should eat some of it, I declined. Lack of time. No sooner had I plopped the dish in front of him than my cell phone rang.

The annoying jingle sliced through the smell of baked food and cooked vegetables with a decisive knife. "Eat," I commanded the malnourished youth. He obeyed without question. Checking the caller ID, it became apparent that life had not brightened at all for me.

Toshokama had reached my private cell phone.

I exited the room, not wishing my brother to hear the possibly disgusting conversation that was promised. My heart felt as if it were drenched in ice water while the rest of my body lost heat rapidly. Fingers shaking, I flipped open the phone.

What could he want from me? Remind me of the gathering? Reprimand me for staying out of touch? What? I despised how much control the man had over me. With one phone call he had shaken my supposedly rooted nerves.

I placed the small, atrocious piece of plastic up to my ear tentatively. "How did you get this number?"

"No formal greeting, Kaiba-san? No manners when speaking to one of your esteemed business colleagues?" His voice added ammonia to the water encompassing my heart. Now my body burned with acid. The mere sensation of hearing his speech triggered these responses automatically. Damn it all.

"What do you want?" Forget the how. Spend as little time as possible with this man.

The phone crackled as if he were breathing on it. I imagined him smoking the usual fat cigar. Sickening. "What do I want? Don't you know what I want, Kaiba-san? What I have always wanted but failed to receive adequately from you?"

I clenched my eyes shut at the stressed word: "adequately." Of course that was something he would say. Well, at least he had forgotten his desire to call me strictly "Seto" from now on. I might not have been able to keep hold of the phone had he remembered. "Why the fuck did you call me?"

"There's no need for foul language, I believe, Kaiba-san. Really, what habits are you teaching your younger brother?" I remained silent as my mind subconsciously reached toward Mokuba. Were my suspicions correct? Did Toshokama know about him?

The man continued unaware of my silent questions. "What kind of examples indeed…do not think, Kaiba-san, for a second, that I did not know about my wife's meeting with your young heir. I assume that you orchestrated that meeting, did you not?"

It was not true. But, yes, it was because Mokuba could not be involved. This was not a blame game or anything of the sort. Mokuba had never arranged a meeting. "Of course."

A snort reverberated across the line. I blinked against the ugly sound. "As I suspected. Really, Kaiba…using your own vulnerable little brother in our dealings? Would you like him to know of what goes on between the two of us?"

"Are you making some sort of—.."

"Would you like him to know of what goes on between us?"

I closed my eyes. Just move on and get around it. "Iie. I would not."

"No, certainly not. Then why involve him, Kaiba-san?"

I did not need to defend actions I had never committed. Toshokama would persecute me nonetheless. I did not care about that, though. Mokuba was my main concern. "It was a guise, Toshokama. Nothing more, nothing less. My brother doesn't even know your name."

"That's interesting, Seto, that's very interesting. Especially when one considers the fact that my wife distinctly remembers conversing with him on her little escapade." My eyes grew fierce and alert. The cloud was correct. She had returned to him—after everything that he had done to her? It had to be for her daughter. The woman's heartlessness failed me. Then it was obvious what her husband did to her for information (and revenge, probably). He had forced her into confession. Now we had a predicament on our hands. Or, I did. Mokuba was uninvolved.

Who to blame? The wife as a lying bitch? She would be in more trouble, more beatings. Or my brother and risk his involvement—harm? Which one? God damn it all to hell. I didn't need this added risk. Mokuba…why did you insist on helping me?

"What do you say to that, Kaiba-san? Were you, erm, disguised as your little brother? Was that a guise, as well?" He found it quite hilarious.

"How do you know that the boy your wife conversed with was my brother? The only thing your wife knows is that she talked with a kid who claimed to be Kaiba Mokuba. Subsequently, that's what you know, as well."

"So, you called on some street kid to have tea and sake with my wife? Desperate, Kaiba-san, desperate. Oh, and by the way, never tell a street kid to give out charity. The $400 he gave her? Was that supposed to be a lot?" He bellowed on the other line. Mokuba should have given more. Plane tickets were at least $300, as I knew from Jou.

"Was there a point to this phone call?" I needed to stay on the business topic. Focus my mind.

"Naturally, Kaiba-san. I do not have time to whittle away with pointless conversations. I'm afraid I have to remind you that some of us have successful businesses to run." Anger boiled then stopped. Why wasn't I used to this by now?

"Anyway, the person my wife got drunk with is inconsequential. The point is that she met with anyone at all—orchestrated by you, as we've established. Now, what makes you think that you have the right to go prying into my private life, Seto? My past? Do you think that you are entitled to it because we've had a few nights of fun? Is that it?"

I decided to cast obedience aside. Let me play this game that I knew so well. There was no reason to continue following his rules. A deal was a deal and we both had that, even though I did not care anymore. I just wanted out of this and I would do it by destroying Toshokama and everything he stood for. Any way I could.

The voice appeared readily. _Lingering fear of him needs to be forgotten now. Use the acidic ice in your heart to strengthen yourself._

"I would think that lovers are entitled to each other's histories. As well as meetings with their lovers' wives. Have you forgotten that since the last time you've had a willing lover?"

The disgruntled old man on the other end was audible. "Kaiba-san, you try my patience."

"Why do you wish to hide your private life, Toshokama? Is there something…dark that you would prefer me not to know?"

"Could I not say the same for you, Kaiba-san? A nonexistent past prior to your twelfth birthday leading to evidence of adoption. Your stepfather's unexplained suicide. Oh, and might I add prostitution?"

"So then we know each other. Good. As two lovers should. I'm going to hang-up now, Toshokama. There is much preparing needed for a certain gathering I am to be attending a week from now—.."

"Kaiba-san!" He had practically screamed it. So, my knowledge of his past had frightened him badly enough for that out of character showing? Interesting. The man seemed tired all of a sudden. He sighed. "What do you hope to gain by having background information on me?"

I feigned a pained voice. "Your distrust hurts me, Toshokama. Why do you think I wanted to gain anything more than some simple facts about the one I've come to know so…intimately…in the past few months?"

I could hear the anger in his voice despite how he tried to maintain a façade of original calmness. "What is your feeble mind planning, Kaiba? Are you hoping that knowledge of me will give you some type of an edge when we meet next?"

"An edge, you say? But why, Toshokama, would I want an edge?"

He grumbled. No more façade. "I'm warning you, keep talking like that. See where it gets you." That line, I have to admit, made me laugh. It reminded me of something Jonouchi Sr. would say. I thought of that man's face, bloodied and dazed. It brought some amusement.

"Is there still a point to this conversation? I would not want to disturb your important business meetings with trivialities."

"Give me answers, Kaiba-san. Now. Never forget that whenever we converse I hold the upper hand."

Indeed. But like I said, a deal is a deal regardless of who holds the upper hand. Alright. "Of course I'm aware of that, Toshokama-san. But the answers you require are well beyond my reach." I had to move forward from this point of argument. "However, if it's a deal you want to cut regarding this situation, then perhaps this conversation could be more successful."

"A deal, Kaiba-san?" Here, a laugh poured out of the other end of the phone in dripping, phlegm-ridden tones. I shut my eyes against the noise, but still this was not a bad sign. The only reason for him to be laughing at this point would be because he was nervous. I could work with this.

The laughs died down slightly and Toshokama continued in a raspy voice, almost as if he had damaged himself with the last bout of laughter. "What kind of deal do you propose, Kaiba-san? I do not see how anything would be advantageous to this situation, do you?"

"I do as a matter of fact. You see, in the position that you and I are in right now, we both hold over each other the means to severely ruin the other's life. Can we agree on that statement?"

There was a pause. I guess he was considering the facts of the situation. "Actually," he said. "I think that the information you hold over me would not be enough to do anything other than scribble in your little journal one day, Seto. Even if you wanted to blackmail me with it, I doubt there would be anyone willing to accept that information. I have constructed a system of air-tight loyalty from the general people, Seto. You see, even if the people do not know of their loyalty to me, they still exhibit traits of severe faithfulness to their master—that is to say: Me."

Shuddering slightly at the last comment, I continued. "The same could be said for me, Toshokama. However, I'm sure that we both agree that there are parties on both sides willing to see us destroyed in any way they possibly can. Am I correct in that possibility?"

Another pause. "The media."

I nodded even though he could not see it. "Always a popular killer. Pretty much neutral, but out for blood nonetheless."

"I see your point." He did not sound at all happy in this confession.

Goddamn finally. He got over his megalomania for a brief minute. Miraculous. I continued my prospects, "So, would it be reasonable to construct some type of deal between the two of us regarding this omnipotent fact? Say, something like: If you drop all affiliation with me on the grounds that nothing gets leaked to any source that would be interested to have such information and I keep your sordid life under wraps. Ne?"

"What makes you think that I'm willing to pull a deal over this matter, Kaiba-chan? It sounds to me that you're trying to worm your way out of our arrangement on the Fifth."

"I assure you, Toshokama—.."

"Because you see, when it comes to dealing with you, I can just as easily say, 'Get beneath me, whore, and forget you ever learned anything about me,' as I could say, 'I decide to stop offering my money to assist in haltering your company's deficit.' Does that sound in any way incorrect?"

Damn. It was too true what he said. I needed to think of some other way around this. "It sounds correct to me, Toshokama. But I think there's one fact that you overlooked."

"What's that, Kaiba-chan?"

I smirked on my end. "I have enough scruples to attend our arrangement for the Fifth, but that does not mean that I would readily be of any use to you." A plan had hatched in my mind and this was the living embodiment of it. Suddenly I felt time being wasted by this phone conversation. My body was pulling me away from here by some magnetic repulsion. I needed to finish this—now.

"Explain yourself, Kaiba." There was no "chan" at the end of this sentence. It had gotten serious again.

"Well, I suppose that my explanation will be clear enough in due time, Toshokama. After all, it's only two weeks until the Fifth."

I hung up without waiting for a response.

Baka. Baka-sama ōkii! Stupid. How could I have been so stupid? The answer was staring me in the face this entire time and my stupidity had blinded me from it consistently. Throwing my cell phone to the floor (literally because I had had enough of it), I began walking towards my office with only one single thought on my mind. Stupid, stupid, stupid…this is the resolution.

That's why I barely ran over little Yugi on my blind charge through my home.

"Fucking…!" I said, nearly collapsing onto the floor after running over poor Yugi and subsequently tripping over him in one fluid movement. The boy was cowering in a crumpled up mound of quivering flesh beneath me, bracing himself for my fall.

Luckily, I caught myself at the last moment. "Yugi," I began, stretching my hand down to his level and placing it gently on his shoulder. He flinched and then looked up when he did not feel another body on top of his.

"Kaiba?" The boy asked through large purple eyes. I nearly fell backward after seeing those eyes. Those eyes…they were innocent yet haggard, as if worn from the burden of living, something an innocent person should never have to consider. However, Yugi looked different from the last time I saw him. Somehow now he was more…alive.

I moved my hand into the space before him, offering it as support to pull himself up. "Yes, it's me."

Readily, he took the hand and practically swung his small body up in front of me. Too much energy for one previously so death-ridden. Then he asked me, almost brightly, "When did you get back?"

"Only a little while ago. How have you been?" The question came out awkwardly despite my best attempts to make it flow naturally, (perhaps it was the forced fluidity itself that ruined it).

Unperturbed, Yugi responded quickly, "Alright. I've been reading a lot. I didn't know you had a library in here, Kaiba!" He added the last part with a small smile.

By this time I was completely shocked. Was he…truly alright? Reading? In my library? Was that…therapeutic for him? Was it just the time spent away from life that helped him? Was he even really recovered? Was his young mind repressing the trauma?

Tempted to ask, "You do remember that your grandfather was brutally and unjustifiably murdered, correct?" I continued by saying, "Hai, I have a library. Was it to your liking?"

"Mmmhmm" was sort of his response. He did not really offer a word because I think that he was eager to move on to the subject of me. "Where were you all this time, Kaiba? Mokuba and I were worried sick!"

"I was…sick, as well, Yugi. I needed to handle some things." Quite. Liquor-related things. "But never mind that. I have to continue on all the work you and my brother did in my absence."

Yugi reddened. "Oh, Mokuba told you about that, did he? Well, it was his idea, sort of, and we knew you were going to be angry, but we only wanted to help! We know that you've been under a lot of stress and everything, so…" I blacked out as the young boy continued spewing excuses at me. At least they had enough sense to know that their actions would upset me, but anger was not one of my emotions. I was more worried for them and their safety. But Yugi did not need to know that. This was a more personal matter between Mokuba and me.

Still, my questions regarding Yugi remained. Had someone prescribed some antidepressant in my absence? What was the deal here? "Yugi," I said, startling him out of the rambling excuses. "Are you feeling alright?"

"Actually I am, Kaiba. I took your advice to heart. To give up is to accept ultimate failure. I couldn't give up even though I had nothing to live for…Grandpa wouldn't have wanted me to give up. He would have wanted me to succeed in everything I tried, even letting him go."

My mind tried to wrap itself around this information. There was too big of a change here to warrant something as simplistic as, well, my advice. Since when was the advice of a traveling prostitute something worthwhile—something to help a person overcome the worst tribulation of his life?

_It doesn't matter,_ the voice said. _He's feeling better and that's all that counts. Let him be happy for God's sake. He deserves happiness more than reason, don't you think? Besides, you need to get to work! _

Right. I had almost forgotten about Toshokama's demise (something so near, I was sure of it). "Well, as long as you feel better, Yugi." Of course that did not sound completely forced and fake and like I did not care about him in the least. Sure. "Now, I made some vegetable tempura for Mokuba in the kitchen. Go eat. I need to get to work."

The young boy nodded silently. Something in his expression told me that he was not quite happy with allowing me to pass, but still had no choice in the matter. Maybe there was another thing he wished to say to me. At that moment, I did not care. Work was the only thing my mind wanted.

I brushed past the boy after small pat on the shoulders and continued to charge towards my office, picking up speed with each step. My mind was already whirling with possible titles and search labels, notes cards and record dates coupled with forgotten data bases. Only the CEO of Kaiba Corp. had access to this much information. Time to use it wisely.

After what seemed like forever, the door to my office appeared in plain sight. I opened it, and walked in to my usual luxuriously uncomfortable chair. My laptop was still positioned readily in its natural spot on desk's surface, waiting to be of some use again.

I sat down quickly and turned on the computer. I did not know how long I would be in here researching all I needed to in order to prepare of the Fifth, but I did know that no matter what happened I could not turn away without answers. The time for obedience was done, as my mind had decided for me when it began arguing with my captor. I needed to use the tools I had to end this entire fucking catastrophe and ruin this evil man and all his coworkers that destroyed the lives of others. I would not accept failure.

An old feeling of stubbornness rose up from a long forgotten place inside of me. The barren wasteland of my emotionless interior has sprouted the oldest emotion I knew: Steadfast drive. I was driven now. Nothing would get in my way.

I still do not know how long it took me to piece together the bits of information in front of me and form a cohesive product with them, but as soon as I did, it was like the world had opened up transformed into something new entirely. This thing before me...was it really true? Was this the answer? Was this the cause of all the trouble I had endured with so much pain in the recent months? Was this truly…it?

Without warning, unspeakable rage burst out of me. I snarled a deep-throated growl in anger, stood up and pushed my chair to the ground beneath me.

_How dare he…how dare he…how dare he do such a thing…_

_He will pay. He will pay. He must pay for such a deed…_

I was not even capable of forming a cohesive plan, the anger had taken so much control over me. The only thing on my mind was blood, in fact. Bloody revenge. I would find this man. I would rip out his throat with my bare teeth and claw out his eyes with my finger nails. The skin left unmarred by my clawing hands would be stripped off his bones and hung delicately over my office door as a trophy for my successful retribution. The rest of him? Oh, there were plenty of people to whom I would send the leftovers. Prioritized mail to a certain rogue businessman in Austria, another in Kyoto, one in Tokyo, another in California, two in Hamburg, one in Rome…the list went on. Oh, so many people to thank with the skinless limbs of their once-prestigious sheep-herder.

Without conscious thought, I had torn a picture off my wall and scraped the loose wallpaper off with my own hands. Now my arms were shaking from effort and leftover emotions as I breathed heavily into the arm, releasing the remnants of anger still clinging to my soul.

Revenge would be mine.

After what seemed like years but in reality could not have been more than two weeks at most (probably less considering the days I spent in my office), the first Friday of the new month arrived. I even got an e-mail and two anonymous calls from the office of Toshokama reminding me of my commitment. The evil side of me wondered pointedly whether the man had gotten any sleep at all from the last time we spoke. He probably had. Men like him considered only themselves the most successful when it came to an actual confrontation.

Was that what this was, then? A confrontation? Something of a face-off between Toshokama and cohorts against me? Could it really become that simplistic and childishly black and white after the hell preceding this rendezvous?

Of course it could. A person could never be certain of the outcome of dealing with less than sane men like these.

I stood in my bedroom, dressing myself in a suit for the occasion. I decided to leave my beloved trench coat behind on this night to put up the semblance of formality with which I was sure the other men would be fashioning. Why not raise myself to their level? It might surprise them to see their prostitute dressing and acting like they were. That's what I wanted: To catch them off guard.

I stared at myself in the mirror. Black suit jacket, black silk dress shirt underneath, black suit pants, and formal shoes. With the silver Rolex on my wrist, I actually looked like a billionaire. Amazing, considering my bank account was comically less than that. Not after tonight. Certainly not.

My next act made me unsure. I had a tie in my hands the color of a red rose stained in blood. It was a shockingly deep crimson article that my stepfather had worn quite frequently to business meetings and such. Should I wear this tie on the night I confronted my oppressors? Toshokama and some of the others would remember it as the tie that Gozaburo wore, (it had his monogrammed initials engraved in the back and no one else owned such a hideous thing), and it might send them off guard, besides. It could seriously work towards my advantage. The only question was: Could I wear this tie that I had loathed so much after seeing it repeatedly on the man I hated with such a passion? This piece of red silk had become something of a channel for my hatred. It was one of the things that symbolized him in my childhood. Now I need to wrap it around my neck like a noose and wear it to the deciding moment of my future as Seto Kaiba. Could I?

Yes of course I could.

The tie looked striking and noticeable against the black backdrop of the rest of me. They would not miss it if they stared at me even for a short glance.

Satisfied, I picked up my briefcase with the usual items, (only having added a small knife to the contents—just in case of whatever, though I doubted I would be needing it), and headed out the door.

Mokuba and Yugi were sitting together on the couch in the living room, waiting to send me off. They knew about tonight. I had told them that this was the last time I would be meeting with Toshokama though I did not tell them what I planned to do. Too dangerous. If anything had happened between then and now and the information leaked, I would have been trapped forever in this hellhole of Toshokama's. So Yugi and Mokuba remained in the dark on one issue. All of us were willing to deal with that.

The two boys eyed me and my clothes as I said, "I'm leaving now. There is no way to be certain when I'm coming back, but the important thing is that you two remain healthy. Mokuba, don't forget to eat and sleep. Yugi, look after Mokuba and spend as much time in the library as you need. Understood?" They nodded in near unison. I had already given Ichigata-san the rundown on my situation. This was the final step before I left partial safety.

"Please. Be careful Seto," Mokuba said. He did not look sad or upset as I would have imagined a few months ago. He looked determined. This entire thing had changed him. I sighed internally while nodding my assent. If only he could have stayed young forever. So much easier on me.

Whatever. I would see him again, probably. Then we would have time to discuss everything that had happened between him and me and everything that went on and…yes, all that. My mind was incapable of staying that topic for too long. I was concentrating on the path ahead of me.

"Sayonara," I said. Then I was gone.

My plane took off at about 9:00 p.m. on Friday, November Fifth. My appearance warranted a few stray glances from the other passengers, but I took no notice of it. I simply did not care what they thought. My wish was to survive this night and exact my revenge on the people responsible. Simple enough, I hoped. Maybe not.

Sinking down in the airline seat, I tried to clear my mind of thought. Empty the soul. Incredibly, as I did, a familiar face appeared fresh in my mind.

_Katsuya…_

I wanted the boy. I missed him. His touch, his kiss, his body, his face, his appearance, his words, his attitude, his everything…I wanted it. My body ached to feel his on top of me or beneath me. Struggling to regain control of myself and my rampant emotions, I took in a breath of stale air and tried to think about something else.

Where was Jou right now? Was he in America? Was he on his way to America in a plane very similar to my own? Had his father/occasional housing companion ever returned? Was the boy bruised? Was he lying in his bedroom, beaten and defeated, longing for someone to help him? That thought wrenched my heart. I wished to suddenly get off the plane and run as quickly as I could to Jou's house, but I knew that was impossible. Still, it took a great deal of strength to remain fixed to the seat.

Did Jou hate me for leaving him? Did he understand that it was for his own good? Did he search for me when I left? Probably not.

What of his family? His dying mother, his sister? Was he with them right now? Had his mother died? Was he considering staying in America for the rest of his life?

Was he thinking about me?

The plane took off. For the entire flight, my mind was obsessed with thoughts of Jou. Our lives had separated us entirely. We were so close to each other yet so far apart in incentive. I sought for revenge while Jou sought to save a dearly loved life. So very far apart. But still I needed him. My body and my mind would never stop needing him. I accepted this fact as a given. The boy was necessary for survival. By the time the plane landed, I had made a silent vow to see Katsuya again before I died. At least once. At the very least.

In a trance, my body traveled by various means to the manor of Toshokama. The mansion loomed before me, alight in many different rooms. Was this a sign of the celebrations? Probably. I smirked, half expecting to see balloons tied to his mailbox. But of course, no such thing appeared.

I buzzed myself in with the familiar voice of the butler and headed up to the front door. This was it. The final time I would ever see this door again upon entering. The night's events played in my mind as if in fast forward. I wanted everything to go as I had planned, but what if it did not? What if…

No. No time for thoughts like that. It would go as planned.

_Jou…_

One more time my body ached for his, just as my hand was on the doorknob. I needed the strength to go through with this. Jou, I need strength. Summoning a final image of Jonouchi's smiling face, I exhaled all my clinging fears. Now or never. Legs, move.

Emotionless and ready, I opened the door.

A/N: Oooh, cliffhanger. To say the least. Ah…painful. I'm sorry, you guys! Ok, well I'm sorry for a great deal of things. I realize that it is over two months after my last update, do any of you forgive me? It's not as long as last time, though, right? I got a few reviews prompting me to update, to which I can only offer my apologies and ask them to please be patient with me in the future. If I do not update for a while, it doesn't mean that I don't care, it means that there are things going on in my life at the moment and I am not physically able to be at my computer. That's all. (And certainly, there have been A LOT of things going on my life right now. Personal issues.)

So, yes. The next chapter will be the climax. Only a few more after that! GAAH! It's actually ending. Although, it took me more than an entire school year to finish. How unbelievably sad is that? (cries)

Wow. Today is actually my birthday. (gasp) I forgot. Heh. Well, please review! I love hearing from you all! Lots of love!


	11. Escape

Thank you all for coming back to my story! I couldn't believe how many reviews I actually got…wow, thanks you guys. Luckily this update is coming to you all much sooner than the last one, (all I have to thank is summer vacation). I'm starting to get anxious about finishing this one so I can move on to other things—like I said, almost one full year I've been working on this story. Which isn't to say that I won't be sad when this is over—I will be. Only one more chapter after this one and that's it! What can I do but weep?

For now, it's the climax, baby!

**_Warning:_** I submit to you this warning that there are many graphic scenes and adult situations in this chapter especially (same as always). Mentions of rape, child abuse, strong language, and similar themes. Those of you uncomfortable with it, I offer my salute as you make your departure.

Disclaimer: I don't own YGO.

**Chapter Eleven: Escape**

"Konbanwa, Kaiba-san. How are you this evening?"

The butler was old, but not decrepit. I was actually surprised that a man with forty or forty-five years left on him would resign to such a dead-ridden job.

My voice came out firm and unyielding. "I'm fine, thanks. Where are the others?" I had been met by this man as soon I walked into the immediate receptacle hallway in the front of the house. I had never seen him before; Toshokama probably hid his personal servants from midnight guests such as me. Then why the candidness tonight?

My receiver nodded his slightly graying head and gestured behind him, deeper into the mansion. "Right this way, Kaiba-san."

We walked along the hallway until we came to a flight of stairs. There I was told, following alongside the ascending butler, that the party was being held in one of the ballrooms on the fifth floor. The man said that he would be delighted to show me exactly where it was.

"But we must hurry. They have been expecting you for quite some time."

Was I late? Impossible. My flight had been right on time. Nevertheless, I checked my watch. 11:57 pm. The evening was to begin at midnight. When had they gotten here?

Choosing to ignore the slight implication, I followed behind the butler and stayed apathetic of my surroundings. Yes, that was a splendid portrait of Toshokama hanging on the wall directly above my head. Yes, there was another one. Oh, and yes, there was a brilliant portrait of Toshokama's relatives…amazing how they all looked the same. Same eyes, same expression. Like the hatred glowing behind those eyeballs was a hereditary sickness instead of an acquired characteristic.

We walked along the corridor through many twists and turns. Like any other mansion, Toshokama's had a maze-like quality to it that would have confused most newcomers. I was determined not to be daunted. Silently, I began memorizing every step of the way. I was not going to be here long and there most likely would not be anyone left to help me out of this mansion once I was ready to leave. For this, I was on my own.

The monotonous path continued until we reached a door on the far end of the hallway. Actually, it was a set of two doors made of dark, carved wood with immaculately clean golden knobs. They looked heavy as though it might take three or four men to open just one of them, (let alone two).

"Here we are, Kaiba-san." Of course. Proceeding to open the door, the butler added one more command (a little nonchalant for the severity of the statement) that lessened my like of him, "Now, you should be on your best behavior in there. These gentlemen could tear you apart."

I stared at him coldly. Judging by the way his body unconsciously stiffened after this look, I can assume that it was enough of a reprimand. Frozen blood. I'd like to see him attempt to get that heart moving again.

I wondered, (keeping all my questions internal), was he told to say this? Or was this an example of his sick initiative? What exactly did he mean by that, anyway?

Amazingly, the sixty-year-old man was able to open both doors completely, revealing the night's destination. It might be easy to imagine mounting suspense as the door opened wider with each passing second, but that really was not the case. The inside of the doorway looked exactly like every other business party I had attended in my short life. The room looked like an elaborate dining hall; there were about six tables sheathed in white satin tablecloths, with a porcelain vase of roses on five of them. Each of the five tables had different color roses, (white, red, pink, yellow, and blue), in the vase. The single table without a floral decoration only seated one chair and was located in the far corner of the room. I could only imagine who was supposed to sit there.

The rest of the room looked quite standard. The ceiling was located high above my head in a gothic style. The walls were colored in an aged type of white that looked fresh; I could still smell the distant chemicals of new paint above the nauseating smell of too much food. Red carpeting stretched out on the middle of the floor while the rest sported hard mahogany wood tiling littered with rose petals of the five decorative colors on the dining tables. Three long, skinny, rectangular tables draped in red satin contained large, self-serve piles of dinner items from around the world. I assumed that because some of the guests had been invited from different countries there needed to be a smattering of food selections, not just the traditional Japanese. Immediately I identified Italian, French, Chinese, and Russian dishes. The others I could not recognize.

Standing around in this lavishly garnished hall were men, scattered in various groups throughout the entire room. All of them were wearing black suits—except Toshokama. I acknowledged his burgundy velour smoking jacket with sudden nausea. Why would he dress himself properly? It was his house after all. Still, the self-assuredness sickened me. Never mind that that was the same jacket he wore occasionally on his nights with me…

Something struck me as not quite right when I laid eyes on Toshokama. The sight of him made me realize something. Why was this so intricately planned and precisely carried out? Admittedly, when I had thought of a party for sex, I had thought of a small, dark room where men wore nothing and just fulfilled their desires until they were bored or could not fulfill themselves anymore. This was not what I pictured.

Although, unfortunately, I did not have much more time to think about it because as soon as the door stood open all the way, every single eye in the room turned directly onto me. Bodies that were turned the opposite direction or half turned, adjusted themselves to stare.

"Seto Kaiba, CEO of Kaiba Corporations," the butler announced in crisp English to the crowd in a regal tone.

I caught a few smirks, even a few wide-eyed and astonished looks, but not a single person welcomed me. Not that I expected it.

Knowing my next move by heart, I compelled myself to saunter into the room, making sure every single eye stayed glued right where they were supposed to. Alright. So this was not what I had expected when I first concocted my plan. But this was not a setback. I could work this room. I had for all my adolescent life. That was the easy part.

The voice in my head snorted. _Easy? Then why are you chewing on your heart?_

Unfortunately true. My heart had risen into the back of my mouth. I felt my neck throb with each beat, my chest suddenly very cold with the absence of its prominent organ. With an excess of required force, I stuffed the muscle down my esophagus, back where it belonged. Stay there, I commanded it.

Loudly, for the room by that point was completely silent except for the reverberating sound of my shoes walking rhythmically across the floor, the butler closed the doors. A resounding _bang_, I was cut off from the rest of the outside world, left to fight in the realm of these men. Yet, I was not afraid. My body had finished with that. The best part about being at the bottom of everything is that you have nothing to lose.

"Seto!" Toshokama made his way from a section of Korean-looking men towards me, clapping his hands once in glee. His piggy eyes were alight with excitement and feeling—he really had gone all out with this. Facing me, he said in a mock-host tone, "Excellent to see you. We were beginning to worry whether or not you would arrive at all." Those English words, coupled with the entire set up of this place made me realize how seriously all of them took this.

Perfect.

Running a hand through my hair slowly, I closed my eyes and told them, switching to English in my mind, "Of course I came. Why would I miss this?" I let my hair fall naturally back into place, leaving it exactly where it fell in a position I knew to be attractive.

"That's what we were wondering, Seto." Adding a smirk to his lips and mischief to darken his eyes, Toshokama continued, "Welcome to our celebration. We are here to be entertained." Then he shifted his expression to that of demand. I had a feeling more words of instruction were going to be given. Already?

That was a bit much, I felt. He was going a little too far with it. How very like Toshokama. (It disgusted me how well I was getting to know him. Even if it was useful, it was still disgusting.) "Well that seems reasonable enough," I told them.

Flourishing a shift in my body, I made eye contact with every single person in the room. There were maybe about twenty men, all dressed in similar outfits with similarly serious expressions on their faces. I was right about the nationalities—I even recognized some of the faces specifically as men I had researched in the past few days. I had already fixed a passive, apathetic look in my eyes as soon as I walked into the room, something all of them would probably find irresistible to their perverted psyches. Upon eye contact, I caught at least a blink from each grown man. One of them was Jonouchi Yoshiho, the man who called me looking for sex when this first began. He looked away the second I spotted him.

What was this feeling I detected floating through the air? Inexperience? Anxiousness? Could this possibly be their first time doing something like this? Perhaps not all of them. But most of them looked like newcomers.

Good.

Without making a sound, I began to unbutton my suit jacket. Before entering the mansion, I had buttoned the first few buttons at the bottom to make it look more formal. Now I removed those and slowly, making sure that every single eye that had been so fixated on me previously was now watching still transfixed, began to remove the jacket. I had already made my way to the seat at the rose-less, lone-chair table, so I gracefully folded the jacket and set it aside on the back of the chair. The impermanent sounds of wrinkling cloth were the only audible noises in the entire room.

Then I unbuttoned the cuffs on my sleeves, letting a few flashes of bare flesh meet their gazes. Predictably, one of the newest looking men let out an uncomfortable cough, which he tried to disguise as a clearing of his throat. I tried to mask my amusement. Would this be easier than I thought?

"Just wanted to make myself more comfortable," I explained. Toshokama had not uttered a sound throughout my performance. When I glanced in his direction, I noticed that he had changed his expression again. This time, he looked the least bit suspicious. Perhaps just confused. He definitely had not expected me to willingly participate in this gathering, had he?

I leaned back and rested the heels of my hands on the table behind me. With the same indifference plastered on my face, I began to add slight smugness into the look as Toshokama approached me hurriedly. I had no reason to be nervous, even though the feeling of his body leaning over mine as he whispered in Japanese: "Enjoy it while you can, Seto-chan" made me feel like vomiting until my organs were irreparably burned from unbridled acid reflux.

_He has nothing, Seto. He is nothing. You hold the upper hand, don't you?_ Hai, of course.

Catching the bile in my throat and swallowing it in one movement, I straightened myself up a bit. Unconsciously, Toshokama moved farther back. Without saying a word, my only response to his attempted intimidation tactics was a nod. I did not really have another answer to that. His words sounded so full of contempt and strength, yet in my heart they felt so empty. Emptiness was not intimidating.

Fury shone brightly in the man's eyes. His round little eyes were bulging with hatred and animosity. I was not acting the way he had anticipated. I was not being the squeamish little mouse I usually was when I accompanied him on those horrible, traumatic nights only a few weeks ago. Interestingly enough, it was at that particular moment when his hatred burned the brightest that I finally noticed how short he actually was. I stood at least half a body taller than he did; looking him in the eye, my chin was almost touching my chest. Why had I never noticed this startling feature before?

He had always been sitting behind a desk or lying on top of me. I never saw him standing in clear light. Now his body looked amusingly dwarfed against my own and I wondered if he noticed my clear advantage over him. At the same time, I felt angry and disappointed that I had let such a small, (literally and figuratively), man take such complete advantage of me.

Just as the miniature sized gentleman in front of me cracked open his jaw to give me a piece of his enmity, a Chinese man that I did not know approached us and said something in his own language, which I knew to mean, "We are waiting," or something similar to that.

In a flash, Toshokama's entire demeanor changed once again. Now he was back to his original host-self, mock-jovial and eager to start the "celebrations" with the rest of his group.

"Shiu, shiu!" ("yes, yes" in Chinese) He turned his back to me and addressed the crowd. "Of course. There's no need to keep all of you waiting. Please, take some more food." To me, "Seto, won't you have something to eat?"

"No, thank you, I am fine." The thought of food sent the same bile rushing to my throat intrusively. No matter how impolite and uncouth it may have been, they were not getting food into me on this night. Besides, the entire proposition of food confused me. Why prolong the supposed festivities? Did any of them really need to eat? (Judging by the numerous thick waistlines, my immediate answer was no. Although some of them, especially one elderly Indian man, were thin enough.)

My confusion was soon put to rest. Not a minute after I declined the meal, a man from Germany, Victor Nichfreiz, whose name and profile I already knew stepped away from the congregated group of impatient gentlemen and said in German, "Herr Toshokama, we have waited long enough. Some of us have other engagements to attend." ("Herr" means "Mr." in German) I raised an eyebrow at his suggestion. Why would they schedule something for this night? Was this really such a fleeting incidence that they could spend a few hours here and move on to some other meeting? A ripple of uncertainty brightened and then disappeared somewhere inside of me. These men were dangerous. "This begins now."

"Impatient, I see," Toshokama commented in Nichfreiz's tongue. Turning his head in all directions, Toshokama searched the expressions of everyone else in the room. It appeared they all agreed with Victor.

"Alright, then. Let's begin!" He went back to English, as that appeared to be the common ground everyone understood.

Judging by the ceremonial tone in his voice, I half-accepted fireworks to explode in the distance with lights shining down upon all of us as children laughed and lovers clapped. The more sensible side of me was not surprised, however, when the only thing that met Toshokama's majestic declaration was silence.

On velvet slipper feet, our host scurried to the door I through which I had entered. A long, red rope hung from the side of it. With required force, Toshokama tugged on the rope and a distant bell rang from somewhere outside the room. "I just need to call in the butler again." Some feet shifted and a few people glance at their watches, but the evening's guide did not look nervous or even agitated. He looked perfectly self-satisfied, much like his usual self, as we stood around waiting.

I took these unoccupied minutes to elaborate my plan. I turned towards my jacket tossed carelessly yet carefully on the chair's back and dug into its front pocket. My hand brushed a cold piece of white paper as if touching a bolt of lightening. Electricity ran through me. This paper knew the truth…it was one of the many.

Everything was obvious now. I needed to prolong this façade as long as I possibly could before revealing my true intentions. They needed to be subdued into thinking that they had control before I ripped their confidence and sanity out from under them like ripping such a thick blanket of security out from under a sleeping baby. How hard could it be?

The door creaked upon slowly to expose another, different butler from the one I had met earlier. This one was even younger, maybe in his thirties, and wore a black bowtie on his white ruffled shirt. The look on his face was astonishingly superior, as if he looked down on us for what we were doing in here but still found I amusing. I knew this look very well. Something about that expression made me angry. Or maybe jealous. How I would love to be able to disregard something like this as inferior. Promising myself that I soon could was the only thing that kept my temper momentarily cool.

In the butler's hands was something that looked silky and transparent. When Toshokama's fat hands took the item, it unraveled and fell down to the floor in all its glory. I saw that it was a type of silk, billowing robe meant for a woman. It was made of a foggy, shimmering material that left nothing to the imagination and sparkled in the proper light.

_Watashi no kami…_I thought. They honestly expected me to—

"Seto. This is for you. Consider it a gift from your sponsor." His face looked satisfied and mischievous at the same time. "Or sponsors, as it really is, I suppose. We all like this garment, you see. But we would like it much better if you put it on wearing nothing else, don't you think gentlemen?" A few smirks, a few nods in response.

I swallowed the indignity of the request and asked them, "So this is my task?" I made myself sound bored and unaffected. Like this was my usual, daily obligation. "Wear this…thing? Is that all you're asking of me?"

"Well…let's just say that the assignment is not yet complete, Seto." I caught a few amused coughs from the rest of the crowd.

Enough of this.

I had had enough already. I will admit that, for a moment, my mind pondered the possibility of appearing virtually naked in front of them all in order to truly disguise the plan, but I just could not even fathom that. No. I refused. And this time I meant it. This was not like my previous refusals with Toshokama. This was a genuine refusal.

Vigor flowing through my veins at the thought of true rejection, I walked casually, exaggeratedly towards my previous owner. He smiled and looked me up and down as I took the robe from him. When he spotted the red tie, a spark of recognition blew up in his eyes. For a moment, a split second, I could have sworn he looked almost…afraid. Gozaburo's memory was a strong one. The single advantage of having been associated with that monster is that no one ever forgot his deeds. Never.

"Kaiba Gozaburo's infamous necktie…" The words poured out of his mouth in dreamy Japanese. "Interesting that you should decide to wear that garment out of all the possible choices, Seto. Does wearing it make you feel as strong as he was, then? Is that what you hope to achieve by showing up wearing such an ugly, sinful thing?"

I looked him straight in the eyes as he stared harshly but distantly into my own. "The tie is sinful, is it? That must be a word you are very accustomed to. Do you even have a true grasp of its meaning?"

He looked suspicious again. "What are you hinting at?"

Without answering him, (he would learn soon enough), I moved back towards the middle of the room and addressed the rest of them in English. If they did not speak Japanese that last exchange of words was meaningless to them. Some of them must have recognized Gozaburo's name, though. I wondered about its affect.

"Is there a separate room for me change into this…lovely thing?" I held it up with one hand as I spoke, physically hurting from calling the thing "lovely".

"Unfortunately, no, Kaiba." Some of the others were getting up and speaking now. The one that just spoke was a man named Yokomasu that I knew from some other business deals. He always looked pissed off at my success and gleeful at my occasional failures. Quick to point out a typo in the memo, even quicker to point out a potential flaw in my design, he had always hated me. This must have been so pleasing to him, partaking in my ultimate humiliation. How disgusting.

"This is the only room of the house you will be visiting tonight," another man with a Russian accent said. I vaguely recalled his picture from my research, but the name eluded me.

Already they had all assembled near the front of the room in one massive group. Every face bore the same arrogant expression that I had seen for the majority of the night. Finally, they believed they were in control. This was the perfect time for a revelation.

In the middle of the room, there were dining tables and chairs blocking me from their full view. Certainly that was not allowed. So, Toshokama instructed the ill-tempered butler, who had not yet left the room, to move everything aside for us. I stood and waited, keeping a watchful gaze on all of them as they hungrily locked their eyes on me. The sound of wooden legs scraping against the floor grated against my ears, but I fought the urge to wince. Never show the smallest implication of weakness. Not when you're this close.

Eventually, the butler moved every single table across to both sides of the room, clearing the pathway from me to them. He had also dragged the chair with my jacket right next to me. I supposed I was to use this for something later—or maybe now.

For some reason, once every false pretense had been destroyed, the room seemed a lot bigger. Emptier. More ominous. Such vacant space would be enough to intimidate someone else, (not me).

"That will be all, Toru," our host instructed with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Leave us." Shaking his head, the butler walked defiantly out of the room. Now he knew for certain what was supposed to happen. Briefly I wondered if he would alert anyone else about it, but then I realized that it did not matter. This would all be over soon.

Again the focus turned to me. Toshokama shrugged his shoulders obnoxiously. "Now, Seto. We're waiting." Agreements sprang up from all around him. A few shifts of the limbs, all of them too eager to see me undress.

Too eager? Well, I could use that against them.

Facing them with an impassive expression and half-lidded cerulean eyes, I brought my hands slowly to my neck, loosening the "infamous" tie. Toshokama seemed to visibly relax as I threw the offensive thing down on the chair with slight emotion. Had it bothered him that much? I could not help but smirk at that. Continuing, my hands unbuttoned the first few buttons of my shirt then stopped.

An aura of excitement filled the room. The looks on their faces were mixed. Some looked restless and bothered, some looked amused and ready to taunt me, some looked nervous and uneasy at the act, but mostly, they all looked prepared.

Gomen nasai. Allow me to shatter that preparedness.

Ruining the intoxicating aura, I loudly interrupted my movements by digging into the front pocket of my jacket.

"Before I continue with this, there is something I would like to bring up."

Grunts of frustration were audible and Toshokama stepped forward. "Seto. You do not get to bring up something interesting to you in any way, shape—.."

"You see, gentlemen," I continued without acknowledging him. "I recently discovered something interesting about most, if not all, of you regarding my company." Unfolding the piece of paper, I brandished it contents with an embellished presentation. "On this paper, you will see some statistics. I trust that you all know how to read them. If you read these statistics in comparison to each other, you will find something very interesting indeed."

Toshokama rushed towards me and reached out to grab the paper out of my hands. I held it back out of his reach. "Look, but don't touch," I instructed.

He looked. Slowly, a furious but confused look came over his face. "What is this, Kaiba?" (the first name had been dropped) "I don't see anything on this paper that shows anything unusual. What are you—.."

I raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "You don't? Really? Well, I'd have to advise you to look again."

Again, he thrust his face right up against the page. "Nani wa? All that's on here is a chart showing the intervals of your company's failure. I've seen and heard enough of this to know—.."

"And above that? What does that remind you of, Toshokama?" My expression dared him to say what it really was.

He stared at it. "Well, I don't see how that proves anything—.."

"What does it show, Toshokama?"

"Mr. Toshokama," began an American man in the crowd. "What is the meaning of this intrusion?"

The miniature Japanese host turned toward them. "I—.."

"What does the paper say? Keep focus." I was not letting him get away from this.

Sighing, he looked me in the face and said, "Well, it shows a chart of the success of my company. I can understand why you would be jealous of someone else's success, considering the facts listed on this paper besides mine, however I don't—.."

"Ah, correct." I moved away from him and went closer to the crowd, showing them all the paper. They looked at me with hateful, angry eyes.

"Now, if you look closely at it," my tone had changed to that of an orator, shouting my facts into their clueless faces. "You'll see that for each interval my company, name of Kaiba Corporations, decreases in stock value and overall wroth, our humble host's company, name of Toshokama Industries, increases in stock value and overall worth by a similar interval." I let that sink in; staring at them all as dawning began to overcome them.

My head whipped back to Toshokama. He was fidgeting and trying to get a word in, judging by his open-mouthed expression. "Excuse me; did I say 'similar'? I'm sorry; I meant 'exactly the same'."

"That proves nothing. Many companies decrease in value while others succeed. You are grasping at straws if you think that I have created some of your misfortune in some way—.."

I fixed a bewildered expression on my face. "Strange, I don't believe I suggested that you created some of my misfortune, Toshokama. But now that you mention it…that is an interesting idea…"

With this little push, Toshokama exploded. He began shouting and waving his arms. The color in his face matched that of his bustling smoking jacket. "How dare you imply such a thing? I'm the one that's trying to help your company by giving you all this money! I've done noth—…"

"What money, Toshokama? $86,000? Is that a lot to you? Judging by the success of your company—success that may not be legal—it shouldn't be. Besides, all the money that you've given me has somehow found a way to disappear within these last few months. How is that logical, may I ask?"

He took a few steps toward me in inflection. "Just because you invested in a child's game that has begun to lose popularity does not make me a thief, Kaiba-san!"

"That's another interesting point, you see. Oddly enough, while my company fails and loses worth at an alarming, unnatural rate, the popularity and success of Duel Monsters has actually increased since the beginning of my downfall." I flipped the paper over to show another, final chart showing the popularity if the game. They looked with astonished eyed.

"Honest stores selling Duel Monsters merchandise have been robbed because of the game's huge success. Tell me seriously: Can any of you walk down the street without seeing at least twenty children carrying a Duel Disk or a Duel Monsters deck?" I truly owed that bit of information to Yugi's grandfather. The robbery in his store had made me realize that something was amiss. Why would people steal, and kill for, something that had no value?

They were stunned into silence. Not a single one of them had anything to say.

"Well?" I asked.

Nothing. Open-mouthed gapes.

"As long as you're all open to suggestions, let me go back to something you said earlier, Toshokama. I believe you said that many companies succeed while others fail. How right you are in that assumption." Moving back towards my table where the briefcase I had carried in lay, I grabbed it by the handle and threw it loudly onto my lone chair in the spotlight. Flipping open the locks, I yanked the top open and displayed mountainous piles of records and research papers.

"This is not the first time someone has accused you of stealing from another's company, is it, Toshokama?" Now his eyes widened. What was that look? Fear? Oh yes. Very much so.

"Matsui Hiroto. Sound familiar? He sued you sixteen years ago for stock market fraud. You stole his money. Curiously, the case dropped only four days after it was brought to the attention of the public. No reason for this has ever been discovered. Utsushi Kimishima. He claimed ten years ago that half of his company's value had been depleted overnight. Yours doubled only two days later. Again, all charges dropped within a week inexplicably." Each name drew out a different reaction from his stunned, beat red face. First he had tried to get a word in. Now he was trying to act calm. Both attempts failed miserably.

"Yumamoto Tsukiko. She claimed that her company had been robbed of its overall value seven years ago at around the same time your own company had just begun to fully prosper. The connection was never fully established, but many say that she believe you were the culprit for the rest of her miserable life. She died in 2001 alone, dirt poor, and in a mental hospital. Has the guilt from that event ever truly been erased?"

He stared at me with eyes bigger than sauce plates. "There were never any proven cases—.."

"No, you're right, Toshokama. There never were any proven cases. But somehow all the implied cases began and ended the same way. Kiromi Hiei accused you and turned up dead in a river five months later. Sagi Rumiko claimed you ruined her and went missing in the same week. Ushimoto Haromi, Taira Otsuba, Tatsumi Ryu, Maniwa Yumei…"

"Enough!" Toshokama interrupted me. "That's enough, Kaiba."

"Oh, but I'm far from finished." Digging deeper into my briefcase, I pulled out more papers. "The rest of you have hands stained with secret crimes, as well."

I stalked towards a Russian man and spoke in his language. "Kiev Mozziera. Spent seven years in prison for corporate fraud. You stole over $3 million dollars from international share holders." He gave me a dark look before grabbing his coat and literally walking out of the room. No one could stop him.

I had already moved on to the next person. An Austrian to whom I spoke English. "Petyer VanAbel. Accused and convicted of numerous corporate crimes, including the destruction of other companies to bar competition. No time spent in jail." After one second I added, "Yet." He could not walk out of the room fast enough.

Now on to the American man. "James Whitestone. Years ago your company was once failing miserably. Then, in one month, you had pulled out a huge success with no explanation. You tried to mask your theft and it worked. You've never been convicted or accused of anything. Until now, that is."

Mr. Whitestone turned wildly to the host. "You tricked me, Toshokama! I was promised something very different than what has occurred here tonight! This isn't the end of this!" He backed out of the room yelling insults and pledges as he went.

And so on and so forth it went until I had laid blame on almost every single man in the room, except for a few who walked out immediately when they saw I my plan. Threats and accusations were thrown about the room. Toshokama had been damned to hell and promised never to be robbed of comfort and relaxation for the rest of his life. The man himself seemed to be having a heart attack by the time everyone except the two of us had left.

Needless to say, my plan had worked brilliantly. While it was true that there was no real way to bring to justice the rest of those intelligent enough to leave, I had scared them more than adequately. Even if their crimes remained in the dark for the rest of their lives, at least they would know someone did not believe their bullshit. A few black-marked e-mails with masked threats and anonymous return addresses and maybe they would think twice before committing another crime. It was enough for me.

As Toshokama grasped desperately at his chest trying to control his breathing and holding onto a table for support, I calmly shut my briefcase and began to re-dress myself. I took my time making sure each button was fixed properly and that my stepfather's tie had no wrinkles in it. As a matter of fact, I undid and then redid the tie three times to make sure it was absolutely perfect. The sound of Toshokama weaving and coughing in the background was overtly satisfying.

I finished only when my jacket was again fitted on me in the same way it was when I walked in. Then I made my way deliberately slowly over to Toshokama and helped him into a chair. (No, as heartless as I was, I could not just leave him there.)

"You should watch your weight," I advised him in our familial Japanese. "It's really not healthy to get so heavy."

Apparently, he was not having a heart attack. Just chest pain. Lucky for him. It seemed he began to calm down. I stood by him, leaning on the table and waiting.

His eyes rolled up to look at me. "And you should…eat more…it's not…healthy…either."

I huffed. "I did eat. Before I met you."

That got us off the subject. "Cut a…deal… … …Kaiba. What do…you…want… …from me?"

I had been dying to hear those words all night. "What I want is to see your ass in jail, Toshokama. You know I have the proof. Corporate theft, soliciting prostitution, spousal abuse, child abuse…"

"How did…you know…that…I have a child?" he asked incredulously.

"I met her once." No reason to hide it. He could not do anything about it.

Toshokama paused for a moment to fully catch his breath. When he did, he was almost back to normal. "You know that I'll never be put in jail. I have too many friends, too many loyalties, to be duped into something as silly as this. You think…" he wheezed for a moment. I waited. "…you think that I never planned for something like this? Oh, I did. I expected this from you, Kaiba. Your reputation precedes you! I'll never…ever…ever go to jail."

As much as I hated to admit it, he was right. Everything that had succeeded for him in the past would again succeed for him now. He had too many friends. Too many bribes and a man's sins could be washed away. I had learned that throughout my life dealing with people like him.

I nodded to him. "Fine. This stays between us. But I want reparations. Never forget that I can damage your reputation with all the blackmail I've stored up these past few months. And those men tonight…well, they can damn near destroy your company and your life, Toshokama." His wheezing became more erratic. He knew I was right. "Unless, of course, someone were to send them an e-mail saying that the entire night had been orchestrated by someone else…in which case you would be left alone, left to live your life of greed and devastation…" I would never let him off the hook that easily, but it was part of my leverage for the evening.

Toshokama looked at me suspiciously. I think some of him realized that I would never do that, but he knew I had power over him. Oh, the things I could do with what I had on him. I had my own attack dogs, as well, that could literally rip him apart if I gave even the slightest of nods. We both knew that. Besides, Toshokama was in no condition to call the shots. I was. That knowledge was mutual, too.

Toshokama closed his eyes and surrendered. "You've got your influence, Kaiba; I am not a fool. Now tell me what you require from me."

I was all too quick to respond. My eyes were harsh, unyielding matching my tone. "Everything, down to the last cent, that you stole from me. I don't care where or how you get it, but give me back what is rightfully mine. Oh, and that includes all the money you promised me from our nights together and, of course, the gross sum you promised me for tonight."

A sallow chuckle dripped out of his mouth. "You drive a hard bargain. But I'll take it."

"Did it sound like I was finished?" Not even close.

He closed his eyes again. "Go on."

"Your family: Keiko, Miyuki and any other children you may have. Give them to me."

At this, he downright laughed. "I only have one daughter and my wife is dead. What would you—.."

Shock rippled through me. "Dead? Who killed her?" I knew for a fact that she was murdered. I did not even need to ask how she had died.

Toshokama smirked. "Not I, Kaiba-san." I did not trust him. But why would he lie? Indecision crawled through me.

_Whatever. It doesn't matter._ Damn that omnipotent voice. Right again. Although it was a shame that the woman had died before her time, there was nothing I could do to bring her back. Miyuki's life was still at stake.

"Can I ask, Kaiba-san," the man continued, getting comfortable in his chair. "What do you want with one beaten and broken girl who is too stupid to recognize what gets her success in life?" I had no idea what he meant by that last reference, but I did not care. My only concern was Miyuki.

"I don't have to explain myself to you, you sick bastard. But I understand if you want to keep what little family you have left. Of course I also understand that Victor Nichfreiz has ties to the German mafia, people that don't take all that kindly to being tricked into blackmail when they were promised fun sex…"

"Alright, fine, take the girl!" With the same dismissive wave he had shown to his butler, Toshokama surrendered his daughter to me. "You'll find her in her room downstairs next to the living room with gold carpet and the tiger statue. I don't even really want her. She's worthless, but you'll soon find that out for yourself."

"We'll see."

"Hai. Anything else?" I knew that he was praying I was finished. For the most part I was. But there was one more thing I needed to clear up.

"Oh, there's not much left, Toshokama. Except one promise."

"A promise?" He chuckled again. "What do I have to promise you?"

"Actually, I'm going to promise you something, Toshokama." And at this, I kneeled down so our eyes were level and fixed my face with as much cold as I could possibly muster.

"If you ever, ever, try a stunt like you pulled with me on anyone—and I mean anyone—again, I will know. Believe me, I will find you. And when I do, I will kill you like the dog you are. Understood?"

Toshokama broke the stare to glance sideways for a moment. "So I assume that means you'll be keeping tabs on my company, then?"

"You bet your ass."

He nodded. "Is that all?"

"For now. But if I think of something—if I ever need something from you—I know that I can count on you to be there for me, is that correct?"

"Why, of course." A genial expression entered his fat face. "What are old friends for?"

"Good." I stood up without another word and grabbed my briefcase.

The sound of his voice drew me back. "So I guess this is good-bye, then, Kaiba?"

I turned around. "What else did you have in mind?"

He gestured with his head to the robe lying on the floor where I had thrown it. "Would you?" he asked in a perverted voice.

"Sayonara, Toshokama." No words for a reply to that. I turned and walked out of the room.

The cackling sound of his demented laughter followed me down the stairs and for many years after that.

Like Toshokama had promised, Miyuki was in her bare but immaculately clean bedroom next to the room where we had first met. She was half sleeping and half battling with a gruesome nightmare. Her unintelligible whimpers and the sight of her black hair whipping around her face caught my attention and my old feelings for her.

When I touched her small, thin shoulder, she immediately jumped awake and scrambled away from me on the bed. I held up my hands in surrender.

Her gray eyes shone in the darkness (I had not bothered to turn on the light and disturb her more). After a few minutes of heavy breathing, she faced me again and moved closer. Recognition and amazement burst their way through every feature of her body.

"Seto…" she said in a small voice. The word I was so used to hearing sounded strange on her tiny lips. The way she said it made it sound like as soon as my name was released into the air it would fall to the ground, shattering, and then I would be gone.

I nodded, letting her know that I was still there. "I came back."

She realized this. A small flicker of happiness made its way through her face.

I smiled back at her. "I'm here to take you away from him." Placing my hand in front of me, palm facing upwards and ready for her to take, I said, "Please. Come with me."

It took about two minutes for her to actually place her hand into mine completely, but I waited patiently. When she finally did, I knew she felt nervous. Her face looked up at my unsurely. The look I sent back was wordless, but told her at the same time: _Don't worry. It will be alright. I will not fail you again. _

I lifted her up and carried her out of the house, out to her freedom. She started squealing and struggling when we reached the door. Consoling her with a welcome pat on the back, I said, "It's alright. You're with me. I'll keep you safe."

After that she relaxed a little bit, but continued to cry softly until we reached the airport.

"Two tickets to Domino, please."

"Right away sir." That caffeine-ridden smile. This time, I smiled back.

On the plane. I made sure that Miyuki was safely buckled in and looked well enough to travel before I started drifting into my own thoughts. The girl held tightly onto my hand and I never let go. She fell asleep quickly enough, anyway.

As soon as the plane took off, I started laughing. Really laughing. Not uncontrollably like I did when I thought my life was out of my control, but a type of smooth, relaxed laughter that signified my freedom.

I was free. Finally.

Free.

Free…I was free.

Cackling away, I tried to gather my thoughts as to what I wanted next. It was so simple.

"Kastuya," I whispered to the window, gazing out at the quickly disappearing land in the direction I thought was America. "I'm ready now."

A/N: Ok. It's done. I've finally finished! YES! What did you guys think of it? Most of you figured out what Toshokama had been doing the entire time. I think it was a little obvious…? But that's ok. I didn't mean for it to be too much of a surprise. What I really want commentary about is what you thought of Seto's handling of the situation? Hated it? Liked it? Loved it? I don't know. That's what I really thought the true Seto Kaiba would do if he had that situation presented to him, but take into account the fact that he has changed a little bit from his experiences.

About the names, I made all of them. Any similarities to actual people are not intended. (sorry if you thought they were a little weird, eheh) Oh, and I don't know if I spelled the Chinese words correctly…I just know how to say it and that's what it kind of sounds like. Don't hate me if I did it incorrectly.

Alright! There's just the epilogue chapter after this and then the story is finished! (weeps) I know I didn't respond to my last reviews, but I will. Give it time, lol. You know I love to hear from you guys!


	12. Letters

I know that it's been a little over one week since I last updated, but I usually like to have a quick update when I'm writing the last chapter. This story is actually over now…I can't believe it! What will I ever do without all of this writing? (shakes head) I just don't know. But it will still be fun. I have a few story ideas on the backburner for now, so it would be nice to get to some of them.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy the last chapter! It's written in a different style then the previous ones, so if you don't get all of it at first, just keep reading. Whatever it is, remember to enjoy!

**_Warning:_** Umm, actually…this chapter isn't so bad.

Disclaimer: I don't own YGO.

**Chapter Twelve: Letters**

_The plane's engine roared to life in the distance. I was already making my way down the escalator when I heard it. It was hard to believe I had just been on that plane, just made way to this country to begin the newest and most prominent chapter in my life. What gave me the strength for all this? What gave me the idea?_

_The escalator eventually came to a halt and I began to walk decidedly towards the exit of the airport. It felt like I was not even moving, really. The six hour plane ride had passed in some type of ethereal dizziness. Maybe it was the notion of my business here; maybe it was the American whisky. _

_Walking towards the glass doors with stick-on messages adorning every panel, I half-heartedly noticed the early morning sunlight pouring onto the dirty tiled floor. It reminded me that there was still some natural esoteric purity left outside the grime of the modern world. Before I reached the doors, my feet stopped moving long enough for me to squint through the harsh metallic structures that blocked my view of the sun. _

_The sun. That ritualistic blot of light fueling the world. It was incredible how much I had come to hate the sun equally as I had hated life itself. Yet, recently I had become more and more captivated by such trivial things as the sunrise and the sunset. There was no reason for it, either._

_Someone bumped into me from behind. "Excuse me," the person said in English. He knocked me back into reality. Right. I was here for a reason. _

_Dizziness returning, I moved towards the doors and pushed them open, feeling the sun stain my face with its stubborn light. It was brisk that day. December had just begun and the temperature here was considerably lower than it was in Japan. Silently, I praised Mokuba for making me pack some extra sweaters. I stepped onto the pavement and headed towards the man with a sign bearing my name written in English. _

_I had hired a taxi cab for the drive into the city. My driver looked to be about thirty, maybe forty. He had short red hair, an overflowing stomach, and large muscles on all his extremities. Definitely American. I guessed he was of Irish decent, especially when we introduced ourselves. _

_We made eye contact and he dropped the sign, offering me his hand. I took it tentatively as he said, "Hello, sir. My name's Billy O'Donahue. I'll be drivin' ya' today." _

_I nodded my greetings, trying not to concentrate on the way he had just squeezed the circulation out of my hand. "I am Seto Kaiba and how are you this morning?" _

_He opened the door for me. I got in and set the lone bag I had down on the floor next to me. "I'm good, sir, I'm good. Want to put that in the trunk?" _

_I assumed he was referring to my carry-on. "No, thank you, I'm fine." For some reason, I felt attached to this bag. _

"_Alright, then." He moved into the front seat. "So where we headed?" _

_Scrambling through the front pocket of my black trench coat, I pulled out the address and showed it to him. Luckily, it was already written in his language. "Do you know how to get here?" I asked._

_He took it and studied it. "Yes I do, sir. Unfortunately that's gonna be a pretty long drive from the airport, so I suggest ya' sit back and relax for a while." _

_I thanked him and put my seat belt on. From what I had been told, American taxi drivers did not know of a thing called defensive driving. Minutes later, I understood that all the rumors were true. _

_O'Donahue attempted small talk, but I just was not in the mood. The strange faintness was at its peak again and I could barely formulate my mouth to move. Luckily, the man took the hint after a while and we drove the rest of the way in silence. _

_Keeping my clouded eyes glued to the window, I watched as the scenery changed from mildly suburban, to extravagantly urban, to dismally urban, to ghetto in continuous movements. New York. It was such a diverse place. _

_The cab maneuvered its way across the crowded streets, passed people wrapped in thick, hood garments and across the ghetto into the dismally urban once again. We had already reached and passed the Battery and were steadily ascending upwards again. For a moment, we stopped in front of an apartment building, enslaved by the heavy traffic. I stared at it. Supposedly this is the type of establishment _he_ lived in…_

_I closed my eyes. It would all happen soon enough. If only I could shake this dizziness…_

_When we reached our destination, I stepped outside and paid the cab driver in American money. I had made sure to exchange all my cash at the airport to avoid any confusion. The man looked happy when I told him to keep the change out of a high paying bill. "Thank you, Mr. Kaiba, thank you." He pumped my hand again. "Have a good day!" _

"_And you as well," I offered, stepping away from the cab with my bag slung across my shoulder. I barely even heard him drive away; I was too busy staring at the hospital in front of me. It was called St. Catherine's Mercy Hospital and there was a statue of some woman with her hands open in what I guessed was prayer. Somewhere inside this building…_he_ was here. _

_I walked through the revolving doors at the entrance and signed my name at the visitor's log-in area. All around, rapid English bombarded me from every side, some of it too fast for me to catch, some of it too vague for me to remember. _

_My thoughts turned again to my destination. I knew the room number and I knew the name. My only complaint was that the elevator smelled like vomit. _

_The button lit up when I pressed the embossed 5 on the panel. A few other doctors and nurses scrambled in after me, but I was too busy concentrating on the fogginess in my mind to truly listen to their conversations or care. The only thing my mind could compute was _him_. There was only _him_ and _his face_ and everything that _he _wanted and how was _he_? What if _he_ didn't recognize me and what if _he_ didn't want to see me? What if _he _had never forgiven me for leaving _him_ and wanted me to go back where I came from? What if…_he_…_

_When the elevator doors opened at Floor 5, I jumped outside, hoping to achieve some peace of mind the faster I walked. _

_And then the door appeared in front of me and all my hopes faded away. There was only this door with the number 514 carved into the front and a small window etched into the top. I peered inside the glass. _

_There _he_ sat. Hunched over in a chair, the only part of him truly visible was his yellow, untamed hair. A body lay in the bed across from him, female, covered in white sheets with many tubes snaking in and out of the bed. Her hair was thin, short, and reddish brown in color, her face very worn either from sickness or from age. She looked so weak, but I noticed quickly that she was breathing on her own. _

_Without knocking, I opened the door as quietly as I could. It made a small noise that I'm sure he heard. Nothing stirred. The only sound was the woman's easy breathing and my lover's labored exhales. He sounded so distraught. I could physically feel the stress radiating off of him in consistent waves. My heart ached at the feeling. I did not want him to suffer this way…_

_So I did the only natural thing I could do in my insufferable dizziness. I laid my hands on his shoulders and massaged the tense muscles I found there. _

_He jumped at the initial contact, but then relaxed under the soothing touch. Very quickly, I found him enjoying the sensation, feeling the stress in the air dissipating. He made small sounds of pleasure when I began to rub fiercely._

_Moving my hands from his shoulders to the tantalizing skin stretched across his neck, I gracefully brought them up, tilting his head back in the process. I noticed his eyes were closed._

_Slowly, very slowly, he began to open those shiny chestnut eyes and granted me my wish to see their splendid beauty after all this time. _

_He showed no surprise at seeing my face; in fact, it was as if he had expected to see me. A small smile lit up his features. I kept my hands under his chin and felt the vibrations in his throat as he whispered my name into the still room. _

_I nodded, agreeing to my title. "Katsuya," I responded. _

_Then I did what I had come there to do. I removed my hands from his precious skin and moved down in front him, kneeling so our eyes were level for the most part. After making sure our eyes were caught helplessly in each others', I said to him in a surprisingly emotional voice, "Forgive me." _

_Suddenly the dizziness took over and I felt tears prick the back of my eyes. What was this? Crying? I had not expected to cry in front of him like this. What was it about this boy that made all my emotions bubble to the surface in a way that I could not control…_

_And yet I did not care. Let me cry in front of him. That was what I felt. These were my tears. They were part of me; a part of me I had held inside ever since departing from him on that dismal night. Let him see me. _

_Katsuya reached down and cupped my chin. I stared at him, feeling his fingers brush away the wetness on my cheeks. "There's nothing to forgive," he said. _

_The tears stopped gradually. I brought myself up off the floor and pulled a chair next to him. I was ready to stay with him until he told me to leave. However long that was, I would be there for him. _

_After what seemed like a while, Katsuya turned to me. "Demons?" he asked with a smirk. _

"_Defeated," I replied confidently. "With ease." _

_He nodded. "I knew it." Of course he did. _

_The woman lay before us in frozen transparency. I had to ask. "And yours?" _

_The boy turned to me and smiled a clear, broad smile. "I think she's gonna be ok." _

_--------------------------------------------_

The television in my living room was blaring.

"And in other news…corporate CEO and teen billionaire Kaiba Seto reached new heights last Monday when his notorious company, Kaiba Corporations, settled in at the top of the money-making charts as the number one most successful and valuable company in all of Japan…"

I was tired of all the publicity already. From my usual spot at my living room desk, (something new I had moved from my office to the living in order to be closer to the inhabitants of my house), I barked, "Mokuba, make that lower. You are going to damage your ears like that."

The victim of my reprimand, my little brother age 15 with unnaturally wise eyes and a suspiciously mature demeanor responded quickly, his thick black pony-tail bouncing with each excited movement as he squirmed on the couch. "Come on, Seto. This is great news! You're number one, again! Aren't you at least a little proud of yourself?" His gray eyes sparkled and searched my face playfully.

I knew that he was dying to know the answer to this question. "Perhaps a little bit, Mokuba, but it took three years for the company to fully recover." That was the strange part. My old business partner Toshokama had kept his word and repaid every cent he stole from me including all of my nightly payments, but he did so over a long period of time. I received the last of my compensation (as the two of us had come to call it) only after nearly two years had passed. The frustrating part about that was that it took another year for me to reaffirm my company's status as a high-rolling competitor in the business world. Now, after three long years of intense struggle, my company was finally at the top again. Unfortunately, there had been no way to force Toshokama into paying more quickly because I had never given him a time limit in the confines of our agreement. Still, the ultimate success of my three years' labor was indeed sweet as I sat and savored it quietly behind my desk.

"It doesn't matter! You recovered and that's the best part!" I could tell that it bothered him the way I was no openly excited to hear this news.

Allowing him a small smirk from my lips, I said, "I suppose you're right. Of course." That was another affect of the past three years. As I suffered through the intricate process of healing Kaiba Corp., I made sure that Mokuba witnessed and understood each arduous step of the way. Someday this company was going to be his and I wanted to make sure that he knew the proper way to care for it as I had. As a result of my deliberate tutelage, Mokuba had become quite cunning. In fact, sometimes he even surprised me with the things he said and did. I felt no remorse over this. It just strengthened my confidence in him that one day he would become a CEO as good or even better (maybe) as I was. But hopefully not for some time.

I turned back to the English writing in front of me. A letter written in neat, refined, and perfectly legible script lay on the desk. Twirling the black pen between my fingers, I read over what I had written so far:

_Dear Kastuya,_

_I know it has been some time since I have last written. My apologies. Things over here are still busy, but they are becoming more manageable. _

_At your command, I've finally stopped taking sleeping pills so now I can sleep on my own for a few hours. It would be easier if you were here. The bed gets so lonely at night when my arms ache for you. Although, I suppose you feel the same way. Also thanks to you, I have begun to eat two meals every day. Full meals. Not snacks. Go ahead and rejoice for as long as you want; Mokuba did the same yesterday morning at breakfast. He wanted to thank you for your dominion over me. (In your next letter, could you make sure you tell him that he has no right to speak of me that way?) He misses you, as well. _

_Yugi is still looking for an apartment. He has set a goal for himself that he must have one by the end of senior year, (which is only a two months from now, I'll have you know. I am told that everyone at school still asks for you. We created a plan for your friends to tell every single person a different story so that they confuse the hell out of each other enough to stop asking. It has worked so far except for one person who asked Honda. He forgot and told the outsider the near truth. Do not worry; Ryuuji beat his ass fairly well. Besides, there are so many stories circulating the school that no one will remember the single true one). The problem with the apartments here is that so many of them are too expensive with not enough room. I cannot understand why one person could want so much room, but I think he has plans to ask Miyuki to stay with him for a while once he does move in. _

_Miyuki has officially moved out of the house. Yes, I too was surprised when she asked me if she could, but I did not even think of saying no. She wanted to live in the old Kame Game Shop. It has been repaired over the last three years, as you know, and an affiliate of Ryuuji's came and bought the place from Yugi. I think he was all too happy to surrender the place to a stranger, someone that would not ask questions. There are still so many painful memories for him there. Miyuki, who just turned eleven last month, decided for herself that she wanted to help run the place. Personally, I think that she just wants to be around Duel Monsters. Did I tell you she is actually quite good at the game? Ever since the sunshine returned to her face, it's been hard to get her away from the cards. The last time she played Yugi she gave him quite a close match. I think she has spirit and potential. Although it is nice to see her obtain a sense of independence, I do miss her a little…but I go see her at least three times a week. Whenever I get the chance, really. She does not mind it._

_I enjoyed the newspaper clips in your last letter. If you get a chance, turn on the news channel and wait for the business section to appear on the screen. There is some good news circulating the airwaves. _(I spoke, of course, of my company's success. He would be glad to know that something good had finally arrived after all the work I put into it. Still, it was too much for me to come out and tell him. Let him figure it out for himself. I enjoyed picturing him frolic around his sister's apartment, screaming to the world that I had finally achieved my goals. I knew he would. And it was a cute image.)

_I assume that you still get letters from Mazaki, Ryuuji, and Honda? I gave them all your address a few months ago and they were extremely grateful. I think that it was not too much of a surprise that the two of us were in love; Mazaki and Ryuuji agreed that they had expected something like this for a while. I also think that you opened the door for Honda to be gay. He is trying it out with Ryuuji for a while. The two of them asked me to tell you because Honda was too embarrassed to do it himself. I know that you are probably sitting there laughing as hard as you can, but they asked me to ask you to take it seriously (I hate being the middleman, but Honda looked so pathetic when I talked to him). So, stop laughing. This is serious. (You can laugh if you want. I did, too.) _

_How are things in America? Is your sister still looking at colleges? Tell her that nothing is too expensive; I have more than enough money for her to go to whatever Ivy League school her heart desires. Yes, I know you do not want to accept that. It's alright, Jou. I have no problem with it. (Just so you know, I already talked it over with her and she is perfectly fine with it. We agreed not to tell you until we completed the money transaction and we have. Do not take it out on her even though I know you want to; take it out on me. It was my idea.) Ask her which school she applied to last month. I think you will be surprised._

_Is your mother out of the hospital yet? Let me know as soon as you get any news regarding her. I want to see you again, Katsuya._

That was all I had written so far.

After my first visit to America prior to the rebirth of my company, we had left each other under the agreement that Katsuya would return to Japan as soon as his mother was able to take care of herself and Shizuka no longer needed anyone to live with her. This was part of the reason I so readily gave money for her to go to college. I wanted her in a dormitory where my lover was not even part of the picture, even though I know that sounds selfish. That was only part of the reason, though. The other part was that I really did enjoy the girl's company. She was pleasant, charming, and very precocious. Unlike her brother, she was exceptionally intelligent and could have easily been accepted into any school with her grade point average. It was unfair to deny her the chance at a successful life just because her family did not have the monetary status to pay for the school she deserved. Besides, I had recently come into more than enough money. I was glad to be of use in the situation.

I leaned back in my chair. How to end this monthly love letter?

As usual, I decided to simply tell him the truth.

_My heart aches for, Katsuya. Please, if you have any mercy within you, send a picture of yourself in the next letter so I at least have something to gaze at while you are away. If your mother is still not well by the end of the school year, I'll plan a trip to New York for a month. I think my schedule has become manageable enough for me to work from my laptop for four weeks at least. I'll go crazy here without you, anyway. _

_Remember to write or call me every now and then. I long to hear from you. Thank you for the past few letters; they are all very amusing to read. (When was the last time you worked on your spelling? English is not even my second language and I write better than you. Just so you know, "awesomest" is not a word. Neither is "weatherful" and there is no c in hungry.) _

In my final sentence, I wrote: "Aishiteru" (I love you) in Japanese kanji and then signed my name in Japanese as well.

It was torturous being away from Katsuya all this time, but I knew that it had to be. As soon as his mother was well…we could be together…if only it did not feel like I was waiting until the end of time to see him again. I had made a total of twelve trips to America in the last three years. That was only four times a year. I needed to see my lover more than four times in 365 days.

There was no question of loyalty during this time. Certainly not. It's just that every time an attractive man walked passed me or someone tried to hook up with me, it made it that much more painful to be away from Katsuya. Even thinking about being with someone else made my heart ache more than ever. Long distance relationships were difficult for me to keep when I was the most sought-after man in Domino, perhaps all of Japan. (Being with Toshokama had taught me that much, at least.)

No matter what, however, I refused to give up on Katsuya. He was the love of my life and I could do nothing to change his obsessive need to be with his recovering mother. I would wait for him forever if that's what it took.

Sealing the letter in a KC marked envelope (so he knew right away who it was from), I prepared the paper for its long journey by airmail and asked Mokuba to take it out to the mailbox for me.

Shutting off the television, he said, "Why don't you ask one of our butlers to do it? They're here for a reason, Seto." There was reluctance in his voice.

In his teenage years, Mokuba had gotten a little lazy and I refused to allow it. "Mokuba. The servants are here for keeping the house in order, not to do things that you and I can do ourselves. Remember that." I had learned to be more appreciative of my servants ever since they had stuck with me loyally when I had barely enough to pay for them. Immediately upon my new success, I increased their pay dramatically. I think they recognized my gratitude.

With a heavy sigh, Mokuba got up and took the letter out of my hands. "Anything else?" he asked in an annoyed voice.

Glancing at the open laptop on my left side of the desk, I quickly snapped it shut. "Iie, that's all. Did you remember to check the company stocks like I asked you to?" This had become a ritual. Mokuba needed to know the company's status at all times of the day. If I asked him, and he did not know the proper answer, I gave him extra chores to do. I did not think that was harsh. Gozaburo used to do much worse with me.

Mokuba rolled his eyes. "Hai, of course I checked the stocks, Seto." Now he just sounded bored.

"And…?" I asked.

"$50,000. Although it might have gone up with the last news coverage."

I nodded, pleased. "Correct. Now it is $50,106. Excellent, Mokuba."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he said, taking the letter out of my hand and leaving the room. He was getting a little surly, but so was I at that age. I suppose he had his own lessons to learn about life. These were things that I did not care, nor think I was able to, teach him.

Yugi was still out of the house apartment-searching with his friends. I looked forward to his return with a new home. I was not sure if that was going to happen, but I wanted to see him move out on his own. He was certainly ready to be independent and I was glad that he felt liberated from my home. It had been three tough years getting him back into stability, but he got there. For some reason, he gave all his thanks to me, even though the only thing I did was give him a place to stay when he had none. Still, Yugi was a grateful kid. I had actually come to enjoy his companionship, as well.

Mokuba returned after a few minutes and dumped some mail on my desk. "This was in the mailbox, by the way." Then he escaped my sight by offering some excuse to go see his friends. He had friends, now. (Of course, I knew all of them by name and description so that there was never any question of exactly who my brother was hanging out with.)

On top of the mail pile was a letter from Nakamura. He was on vacation in some part of the country, enjoying the beaches or something. As soon as I possibly could, I had given him my two months back-pay and then given him almost triple the amount he used to make for a fair raise. He had been thankful, but we both knew that this was not even close to what he deserved for being there for me. I wished I could have given him more, but that was the problem with kindness. Sometimes you do not get back what you gave away, yet you always feel better about it. Being kind was like that.

Beneath that letter was some anonymous hate mail. My eyes ran over these letters indifferently. I was used to them. They were from affiliates of the men I had met on my final night with Toshokama. I had not told any of them that the night had been a set up, like I promised Toshokama I would. In fact, I had not told them anything. My only true reaction to their hate was that I kept constant tabs on their companies every day, making sure that no one was stealing from me. I could never let that happen again. I would not.

I started staring off into the distance for a moment, thinking of some of the things Toshokama and the men would have had me do if I had never broken free of their captivity. Long ago I had made a rule that I would not try to suppress these thoughts, because my repressed childhood had shown up enough times for me to revise the idea that repression made the bad memories go away. Iie. Now I worked on accepting the past as it happened, never wishing to change anything or forget anything, just trying to accept it. Undoubtedly, this was easier said than done.

It took a few minutes for the memories to pass, in which time I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing regularly. When they finally left me, (for the moment, at least), I began sorting through the rest of my mail.

My heart stopped when I recognized the return address on the next letter.

_Katsumoto Jinesuji._

I knew what this was. His donation to my corporation. He had not forgotten, after all. For the past three years, they had become sparser, arriving once every three months at first, then once every five months, then twice a year. This was the first letter I had received from him that year, meaning that my hopes of him eventually forsaking this humiliating tradition were all for naught.

Tentatively, heart beating furiously in my chest, I opened the letter. The very idea of touching something that had once been in his hands made me feel sick. When I gazed down at the check and saw the actual amount of Katsumoto's donation, a small laugh erupted from my mouth. $700,000. A hell of a lot of money.

Recently, I had continued my old tradition of burning all these checks and then desecrating the ashes. Somehow, though, the memory of the checks could never be burned with the exact amount of ease that it took to physically destroy them. The idea of this man and his false sympathies stayed in my mind for more than I care to admit.

Angrily, I threw the letter down on the desk, leaning back in my chair contemplatively. What was making me so angry and inconsolable about these checks? Was it that this man thought I needed his help? Had not I needed it at one point? (I hated that memory, as well.) Was it the recollections I had of what Katsumoto did to me as a child? Was it a mixture of my hatred and fear of him that caused me to feel so enraged and tense when I received these letters?

Of course that was the answer. This man frightened me, but also made me feel such hateful emotions as I cannot describe in words. I let him have too much power over me, even after three years of destroying the other men who had kept dominion over my every movement. Naze?

At that moment, I began to make a conclusion about something I had been thinking about for a while. For most of my life, there was a farce hanging over my head that told me that I had control over everything I said, did, and thought. That is not the case.

People as humans form voluntary and involuntary relationships with others as a mandatory part of life. Anyone allowed to get close to you has some sort of power over you, whether you realize it, accept it, or deny it. People that have a traumatic effect on you hold extreme power, even though they may have died already. Memories, like people, have an innate scarring ability. Unequivocally, memories and people are intricately intertwined to create the forces that guide our lives.

And yet…(I began to think, searching through my desk drawer for a clean sheet of paper and picking up the pen I had written Kastuya's letter with)…people and memories can only have power over you if you deny them. This had been my mistake all along. Trying to burn Katsumoto's letters was not going to relinquish his influence. First, I needed to recognize his influence and accept it. Then I would severe all ties with him once and for all.

The only way to do that was to communicate directly with the monster. Admittedly, I was afraid to cease the endless escape I strived for, but it became painstakingly clear that the only way to truly escape would be to face this man head on.

I could do that. And I would do that.

So, peacefully, turning on the television to give my mind an outlet of concentration, I carved out the first sentence of my letter.

"And in other news…"

_Dear Katsumoto…_

**The End**

A/N: Ah, what a philosophical ending. Alright, everyone! That's it! I'm sorry if it got a little bit strange towards the end…I know that Seto may have been a little OOC, maybe just a tad, but it seems to me that he should be. I also know that some of you wanted Seto and Jou to be together in the end…well, they were! They're never apart, really. The memories of each other are enough o keep the love alive and well, breathing inside of each other!

Ok, that was a little strange…moving right along, then…

There will not be a sequel to this story. Yeah, I think I can honestly say that. Nope. No sequels. Nope nope nope! Lol. I'm sorry to be so adamant; it's just that this story gave me a lot of trouble during the year and the thought of signing up for another round is just…wow. It's troubling, to say the least, lol.

Anyway, let's get on to thank-yous. I would like to thank and dedicate this story to the reviewers. How can I thank you guys enough? You all had a lot to put up with in regards to me and my slow updates, the way I strayed from the actual canon of YGO with this, and of course, poor Seto being exploited as the main part of the story. You guys are so resilient! I went through a lot of hard times while writing this story and I think that the only thing really keeping me halfway sane was the thought that you guys were here for me no matter what…the idea that instead of being judged, I was being commended…it's just…wow, seriously, I'm getting goosebumps just thinking about it. Thank you guys, I love you all so very much. (tears)

Of course, the people that read and did not review. Hopefully you guys enjoyed it!

Well, for those that review, I'll speak to all of you again in the replies. If not, then I hope that everyone enjoys their future reading!

The Authoress,

_Seto'swhiterose_


End file.
